


What Time is It?

by windybee



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: 1950's, Future, M/M, Sci-Fi, Time Travel, vintage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 05:54:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 67,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10075196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windybee/pseuds/windybee
Summary: Frank spends most of his time constructing a portal to take him into space, but something goes wrong and he ends up in the 1950's. He would have immediately fixed his error if it wasn't for the boy who he met 200 years in the past.





	1. One.

Frank smacked the metal side of the machine, ill-served by it. His palm landed on a protruding, half-screwed-in screw. A pink indent was pressed into his hand, the color drained, leaving his flesh white and after a moment returned. Filling to a deeper hue of red as he watched blood rush to it. He sighed in frustration and shook the pain out of his hand. Went back in with the drill to set in more screws. Dissatisfaction and vexation was always a constant with this wretched hunk of junk. He couldn't even take his disappointment up with it without it hurting him. 

No longer he knew why he hadn’t given up hope by now. Years had passed by and nothing had happened to make him want to keep going. The machine had never made a promising noise, opened up, or done anything but electrocute him. It felt like the time for it was coming to an end. The door of opportunity felt like it had been closed in his face and he heard the lock click under his hand. He hunched over the notepad on the tabletop next to him and scribbled down a few calculations. Trying to figure out which way to turn the dials this time to get _something_ to happen. Anything was better than staring at the wall through the middle. 

“Frank!” His mother flung open the basement door, letting light pool it. He flinched and his eyes closed as they were pained by having to adjust so quickly. “Come eat, honey. Are you still working on that?” She looked at him sadly and softly stepped down the stairs, still in her work clothes.

“Yeah, mom.” He morosely said. Waiting for her to say something else while he clicked numbers into a calculator. “Shit.” He huffed, realizing he’d used the wrong math formula to calculate volume. He scribbled out the problem, leaving ink blots on the lines.

“Come eat dinner. Your project can wait. You’ve been on this thing for years, honey. A rest every now and then won’t kill you.” She brushed a lock of hair back from his forehead, ogling the machine before going back upstairs. "It's a real one tonight, come enjoy it."

Frank grunted, signalling that he heard her. He continued pressing numbers into the calculator, jotting down variables to try next if this didn’t work. Once he received the numbers, he cautiously adjusted the dials around the large oval shaped hollow in the machine and waited. Waited for something, _anything_ to happen. But nothing did, and he stared grievingly through the empty portal. Seeing only the basement wall on the other side. The last thing on his mind at the moment was sitting down for some lousy dinner. 

His hands shook delicately as he sat back down at the desk and resumed stitching his suit. Easy, brainless work that lessened the worry he had about his time running too long on the machine. He'd designed this years ago, continually adding features on. The portal to space might not be done right. But he'd be damned if he couldn't put together a simple space suit. Easily, he could have put the suit inside the stitching machine in the living room wall, but it would feel like it wasn't made by him. He really needed to get something right. And these perfectly spaced, equal sized stitches stood as proof that he could at least sew right. 

In the middle of a stitch in the neckline, his mother let out a shrill yell for him to come up and eat. It scared him as he was in his head. He flinched and he pushed the needle tip into his finger. An orb of blood collected at the puncture wound. He wiped the remaining blood off his skin onto his jeans and hopped up the stairs. Hastily going into the dining room and taking a seat at his place at the table. A plate of bread sat in front of him but looked less than appetizing. As the days kept passing the feeling of accomplishing nothing crept up his body. It slithered up to his neck, leaving its tail wedged in his stomach.

“Any luck?” His father asked, chewing on a piece of garlic bread.

“Nope.” He sighed, removing his injured finger from his mouth. “Every number combination I’ve put in so far hasn’t worked. I still have about half a million to go.” He said mostly sarcastic and huffed. He really did have fifty thousand variables to get through.

“Maybe you should look at colleges?” His father suggested as his mother placed the dinner plates down in front of the boys. “You’re smart, Frank. Don't take offense to this but, whatever you’ve been doing seems like it's a lost cause by now.” He shrugged.

Frank held his fork in his mouth. Clouded, worn rage began to fill his head. What did he know about space travel anyway? Does he know how long it takes? It's not a lost cause. He swallowed everything he wanted to say along with the food.

“It’s not a lost cause.” He said, detached. “I’m opening a portal into space. Once I do it, space travel will be flung forward years and years, dad. There’d be no need for rockets, eliminating the need for fuel, space travel training, and years lost just _traveling_. Money that's now being used to build rockets can then be used to further fund space discovery. And we’d just be able to get into space faster for the basic discovering.”

“I think that sounds great, kid.” He father said with food in his mouth. “But it sounds like a sci-fi movie to me.” He shrugged. “I’m just saying, it doesn’t sound realistic to me at all and I’m sure other scientists would think so too.”

“Hm,” Frank unclenched his jaw. “I got funding for this _sci-fi_ experiment by scientists that think it's a good idea. Remember?” His molars pressed hard against each other. “Just because you can’t understand it, doesn’t mean it isn't possible.”

He sighed. “I’m just saying, Frank. You’re seventeen, you’re smart. A goddamn genius. You need to get out there instead of dedicating any more years of your life to that damn machine! It hasn’t given you any sign that it's going to do anything since you were thirteen, what makes you think it's just going to boot up one day?!” He threw his hands up, getting more worked up than he intended to.

“It takes time! It's going to take some time, it isn't a fast project! I don't even have a team! It's just _me._ Me alone, no one else’s ideas or input! Okay? So back off!” Frank dropped his fork, losing what he had worked up as an appetite.

His mother reached out and touched his arm. “Honey, calm down, please. Can we just enjoy dinner?”

“I can’t enjoy eating when he’s wasting his youth on this waste of time, Linda!” He yelled. “Don't you think so?”

“It isn’t a waste of time!” Frank yelled into his hands covering his face. He filled his lungs and held his breath, weighing the pros and cons of exploding into a fit of angry words. “Why do I even bother? You're never gonna listen to me anyway.” He scoffed.

“I've been listening for years. Nothing's happened.” He lifted his cup to his lips. “And nothing is going to happen.”

He let out a harsh laugh and looked at the ceiling above them, holding everything he wanted to say back. The argument was tired anyhow, there was nothing new to say. “May I be excused? I’m not very hungry.”

His mother sighed with closed eyes. “Fine.”

He did feel guilty. They only ate actual meals together maybe a handful of times a year. Cooking was something abandoned a couple decades ago. Most, if not all families would drink their meals. A powder mixed in with purified water. It used to come in only chocolate and vanilla, but now it was a rare sight to see a chocolate or vanilla flavor. They were usually labeled 'classic flavor'. Cooking dinner every night was a foreign concept. At least, Frank had never met anyone who cooked dinner often like people used to many years ago. Though his mother suggested it was better the way it is now, his grandmother told him once that cooking was something that people bonded over, that brought families together. And he could imagine that, the ancient holiday that was Thanksgiving was dying among families, it was a rare occasion for someone to celebrate it. Blamed partially on the focus of actual meals being the main part of the holiday and new horrors of the Pilgrim's actions uncovered decades in the past. 

Christmas was still prominent, however. But he thought it to be very different than how people used to behave during this time. He had watched the most popular of Christmas films from the 20th and the first years of the 21st century. A mood he could not describe or imagine had been projected onto him through the old films. He had bought a DVD player so he could hold onto the physical copies. It was difficult to find one that worked. One of his favorite Christmas films was Home Alone. He built a tradition for himself to watch his favorite Christmas movies before going to sleep on December 24th. If he was lucky, he would dream that he’d have the classic Christmas.

As he left his seat and made his way back down to the basement his head began to ache with the regret of fighting with his father. Of course, he just wanted the best for him. Any college in the country would most likely accept him, he could definitely get into an ivy league school freed from tuition payments. But the idea of college didn’t appeal to him. Being stuck on a schedule, having to take core classes he didn't want or need to take, having a set work space away from home, consulting someone else before adjusting his experiment, working on things in groups. None of that sounded like anything he wanted to do. His setup where he worked as many hours a day he wanted, alone, and able to change his plans at his will worked just fine for him. He enjoyed himself. No way was he going to apologize for being smart, but not a college guy.

He solved one more math problem in the calculator and adjusted the final, smallest dial on the top of the machine, setting the magnetic field at a frequency he deemed feasible. Held his compass in front of the machine, watching the needle. It pointed in the correct direction. Ninety four degrees, North. Held it in the machine this time. Right inside of the large, metal, oval rings that he attempted to use to break through to get into space. This time the needle flung itself to the magnet, the north notch pointed right at the magnet. _Strange_. Wouldn’t it be the south side pointing to the magnet?

His heart jumped at this. He let out a laugh and jumped in the air, punching above him. _Finally_ something, no matter how small happened here. He held it in front. Twisted his wrist, the compass needle turned. The north notch stayed pointed straight through. Ninety four degrees, North. Pushed the compass in again. The needle spun around and landed pointing towards the magnet. He tore his hand back through the empty portal and flung himself into his desk chair, going over safety measures, his notes, and just what to do next. He had no idea as his eyes wildly skimmed text. Searching for the answer.  

“Fucking, damn it.” He said, standing up, looking at the machine, with his hands rested on his hips, searching for what to do next. Took took the largest dial that sat on the bottom right side and began turning small notches, waiting between each click for something.

He gasped hard, hurting his throat a bit when he heard the notch click, then what sounded like a gear speed up. He let the notch sit there, listening to the gears turn inside for the first time in a long time. He realized all the knobs needed to be aligned, each one doing its separate job to work together. The dial above the largest one was a smaller size and he turned it against the notches. Listened extra closely around the small sounds of the gears. He laid his hand on the edge and felt for anything. The dial clicked and he waited, feeling the side heat up. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach. Quickly, he noted everything that was happening to every knob. Up the line of dials he kept going. Feeling small jumps of electricity, hearing the inner fans whirring, the side lights lit up, and then everything evened out. The machine cooled down, the fans slowed, the gears quieted down, and the lights dimmed. It had powered down.

“No, no. Please, don't.” He jumped up out of the squat he has his legs bent in and stepped back, looking for the cause of death. “We were _this_ close. You fucking- ah!” He yelled, throwing his notepad onto the ground.

He fell into the chair and rolled it in front of the machine. His eyes had grown fuzzy with the tears collecting on his waterline. The solution was sitting right in front of him, staring him in the face, waiting to be figured out. His hand rested over his mouth as his brain ran through every possibility of what to change or tweak. He stood up and turned the brightness of the LED lights inside down, the fan power higher, and the speed one foot slower. Even gone as far as to replace some of the wire coverings in the back. He fell back into the chair again and waited.

Sudden tiredness spilled through his overworked body. A lack of being able to relax was at fault for keeping him from realizing he was so tired. And now that he was able to sit and slouch down, his eyes began to droop before he’d assessed anything he could do to make it work. Allowing himself to drift off while he thought about solutions, he hoped one would come to him in a dream.

-

 

A small shock hit his hand and burned him. He jerked awake, nearly causing himself to fall over in the chair. Before his eyes could focus he saw small white flickers jumping out to him. He rolled the chair backwards, not liking how it felt to get hit by one and he rubbed his eyes. He first looked at his hand, a small blister had started to form and the area around was bright red. Screaming at him. He brushed it off and looked at the source. The machine was spitting sparks out from the middle, at first he thought stars were coming through. Through the dream fog, he quickly realized how ridiculous that was. He jumped out of the chair and went straight for the fuse box, turning the knob inside there down a few notches, seeing that the sparks were slowing gradually. He kept going until there were no more sparks, but the machine was still on.

Once he had a chance to clear his head, he realized something. The breakthrough he was waiting for all these years. The middle of the portal, the entrance into the other side of space was black. No longer empty. He couldn’t see the other side of the room anymore. Behind the machine, on the back, it was also black inside, no longer see through. He fell to his knees and felt his body become overwhelmed with happiness. Wildly, he wiped at his face, starting to worry about another project; getting through.

“You're alive! You- I did it!” He cackled, laying his folded hands over his head. He sniffed and let a tear fall. “It works! Fuck! I'm a goddamn genius! I'm going to fuckin’ space!” He laughed.

He ran upstairs, into the kitchen. The early morning light made his eyes burn, but he didn’t stop, he needed to get in and out. He grabbed the first things he saw, a banana, an apple, a sandwich bag and a bottle of water. Before anyone could talk to him, he ran back into the basement and threw everything down onto his desk. He knew exactly he was doing, he had this planned out when he began the experiment. He tied twine around the fruit and filled the bag with water, also tying twine to it.

Tenderly, he tossed the apple into the black and felt carefully for any movement. Through the string, he felt it land, roll a bit, then sit. Unmoving. He feared the worst and pulled the string back through, the apple came back easily and unharmed. He stuck it on the cluttered desk, waiting to examine it later. The banana was next, something with softer skin. It did pretty much the same thing. Easily went through, landed, easily came back through, unharmed. Without studying the fruit first he tossed the waterbag through, feeling its movement in the string. He noticed there was water on the outside of the bag, since he’d poured it in with shaky hands, not all of it went inside. Figured it wouldn't be much of a problem. It landed rather quickly and did nothing else. It came back through, unharmed. But he noticed something strange. Too strange for his own liking.

Mud was caked onto the bag where it was previously wet when he tossed it in. He audibly gasped and felt the dirt with his hands, running it in between his bare fingers. It _felt_ like earth soil, but then again, he didn't know what moon soil or mars soil felt like. Everything he saw and felt from the dirt on the bag he wrote down, not missing anything. He did the same with the fruit. Once he looked at it, he noticed the apple and the banana were also dusty.

He slouched down in his chair after studying the strange dirt and thought slowly, running the gritty, brown mud between two fingers. He took a deep breath and smelled something different. It filled him with nostalgia. The smell reminded him of when he was a kid and visited family in Italy, spending a lot of his time in woody areas. The smell of fresh dirt and clear skies filled the basement and he wondered if he was still dreaming.

Apprehensively he reached out to the black mass, seemingly swirling around slowly. His fingertips touched the black and it felt so, so cold. The empty cold of space filled his thoughts. It startled him at first and he ripped his hand back inside, clutching it to his chest before reaching out again. They touched. A sigh escaped him as he slowly stuck his hand through, feeling something stiff. Rough and sturdy. He ran his fingers over it, recognizing the feeling, but not being able to place it. He pulled his hand back out again, feeling the need to take a small break from any of this and he made his way to the stairs, leaving the earthy smell behind him. Wondered if it was a separate planet, a dream, or something worse.

-

 

Frank knew he needed to go to the store to buy a newer oxygen tank to strap to his suit. Leaving the house wasn’t something he did often anymore, he didn’t like going outside. Felt like, and knew, he was always being watched out in the open air. He could use the tank he already had, but it had been sitting around for a few years. Not the safest bet, and a risk he wasn’t willing to take.

He stepped on the dressing platform and held his arms out.

“Thaddeus,” He sighed. “Dress me for the weather, but comfortable.”

“Yes, Frank.” The female voice responded.

Thaddeus was a system that had been programmed to be sort of like his own secretary. It was connect to everything in his room. His clock, the television, his bed, his dressing platform, his music, meals, and everything else. It was also programmed for voice and face recognition, as to not respond to anyone but Frank. The system was also equipped to gather data about Frank and do what it could to get to know him to give him the best experience. Which included things like keeping track of his favorite outfits, singers, movies, foods, time of day, the temperature he likes to keep his bed at during the seasons, and much, much more. Each system came completely equal in the store, no name, and no set preferences. Once bought, people were able to name the system, pick how many people would be using it, choose the depth of the voice (or an accent, if you wanted to use one), and language preference. 

Shoes emerged from the platform and wrapped around his feet. Black, fashionable sneakers. He almost regretted purchasing these, not knowing whenever he’d need running shoes. But they were comfortable. A plain black shirt and a jacket swung from out of the lifted closet that had arose behind him.

“Maroon, Thaddeus.”

“Of course.” She responded. "Would you like a freshening capsule?"

"Yes, please."

The closet whirled behind him and a maroon jacket was stuck out on a hanger. He pulled it off and pulled it over his shoulders. He figured he would just leave his comfortable, dark pants on. Made for running or doing exercise. Which, he wasn’t. But nonetheless, they were comfortable.

A single capsule the size of the nail on his pinky finger, filled with baby blue gel was presented in front of him on a raised, slim, smooth pillar. He took it and let it melt slightly in his mouth before swallowing it. The raised pillar had a slight water stream rushing out like an old fashioned water fountain and he sipped on it. The capsule was meant to block the hormones, chemicals, and expel the grime from your body and naturally emit hormones and pheromones from your body. Instantly, he was noticeably cleaner, the grease from his face and hair disintegrated into the air, the soles of his feet left brown prints on the white platform, and he could smell the scent of soap emitting from his pores. Showering was still something people did, and often, but there wasn't always enough time to go through all the trouble. The freshening capsules were sometimes better. Though he did feel clean, he wanted to shower.  

“My wallet, Thaddeus.” He asked. And not a moment later, his wallet was produced from an opening on the platform. “Thank you, Thaddeus.” He said as he went up the stairs. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye Frank, stay safe on your commute. Only a 30% chance of rain.” She told him.

He slipped out the front door, dawn approaching. He really had no concept of time nowadays. He should have asked Thaddeus for the time. Oh well, it made no difference anyway. He just hoped the store was modern and not like the ones who kept the older style. If there was an opening and closing time, he was sure he’d be there during an hour it was closed.

He reached the subway doors and swiped his card upon entering. It deducted twelve dollars from his account and added twenty four points for his purchase, and unlocked an ‘early bird’ reward, adding an extra ten points. If he collected enough points, he could afford a free ride. He huffed and sat on an empty seat, eyeing the graffiti writings on the windows and walls. Something about the inside reminded him of older films he saw, and he felt comfortable here.

His eyes fell on an older man who was sitting in the row of seats across from his. His sagging skin, nearly bald head, sunken eyes, and spots on his hand supported his theory that this man was _old._ He almost looked unhealthy. Frank had seen how people used to look when they got old. Specifically people born before around 2020. After that, children were given extra supplements in their meals. To improve the immune system, help them grow taller, have more resilient skin, a higher pain tolerance, a lower chance of mental illness, and a longer, healthier lifespan.

The only possible side effect was cancer. It was extremely painful, the treatment. But it was effective, a 96% success rate. The 4% was blamed on faulty diagnoses. A few injections of the burning, purple serum over a few months and it was gone. Usually never to be seen again. He had once read that cancer used to be seen as incurable. He couldn't conjure up an image in his mind of how fearful everyone must've been of cancer. It was such a large part of entertainment before the cure had been founded in 2032. After that, it wasn't on TV so much anymore. He guessed it was because it wasn't that interesting to see someone who wasn't scared of the cancer, only of the wretched burn the medication gave.

“Where are you headed this early, old timer?” He asked, getting comfortable for his nearly hour long commute into the city.

“Work. Got to open up shop.”

“You’re one of those? Opening and closing times.”

“Yes, I prefer the human interactions. I don’t want a computer running my store for me.”

“More efficient, you could rake in more money if you had one for the hours you’re closed. What do you sell anyway?”

“Flowers.” He smiled, warmth emitting from his dark brown eyes. 

“F-flowers?” Frank felt a lump grow. He swallowed it. “Where do you get them? No one sells flowers anymore.”

“I grow them. Well, my wife does most of the work. She’s more nurturing than I, as you can imagine. But, I tend to them. Yeah, we’re the only flower shop for miles. Don’t get much business these days, haven’t for a while.”

“I think flowers are beautiful. I’ve never seen one in the city. Last I saw a flower was when I was twelve, I think.”

“That’s no way to live, we used to give flowers to each other all the time. I never see any romance around.”

“Of course there’s romance. Humans can't live without it. It makes us want to breed. It’s just different from your time. I suppose you were born long ago.”

“Oh, yes. 1970.”

“1970?! Jeez, you’re in the two hundreds!” He immediately regretted how rude it must have sounded to comment on the man’s age like that.

“213, yes I am.” He laughed. “What a world it has become.”

“How’ve you lived so long? Not to be mean, but usually people born so long ago don’t make it this far. I've never met anyone born before 2020. You know, they never had the children’s supplements to grow this old.”

“Yes, I don’t know how I made it this long. It’s uncommon, I know, but I’m still pressing on, I feel great. I always thought it had somethin’ to do with those flowers I’m handling all the time. Opened up shop when I was only twenty-two years old, yes I did. And I've been loving it ever since.”

“What was it like? Back before everything became how it is?” Frank leaned forward, desperate to hear.

“Oh, what do you want to know ‘bout? Nearly everything it different, kid. And I’ve only got a bit of time.”

“Romance, tell me about romance.” Frank lifted his legs and laid his head back on the seat. He closed his eyes.

“Romance.” The man repeated, laughing. “We used to make mixtapes. Record music from the radio when it played, only 8 tracks. And give it to her and hope she’d like it. Write notes and fold ‘em up _real_ tight and slide it into the slits in the lockers. We used the call at night on the party line and hope to god her mama didn’t pick up the phone and hear us talking. And buy lots and lots of flowers.”

“You’d handwrite notes?”

“Yes, and often.” He sighed. “At least, that was my experience. There’s so much more, but I don’t think I could articulate it all well.”

“Fair enough.” Frank smiled, still thinking about Christmas. “Was Christmas as good as it seemed. Like in the movies?”

“For the lucky ones. Rich folk with nothing but time and a good family.” He shrugged. “My family, we didn’t have it so good. Living in the projects, money wasn’t easy to come by. So gifts weren't something we worried much about. But  we did have each other. I do feel sad for the people who have no money and no family. Christmas could be such a lonely time.”

“I’ve never celebrated it. I would really like to.”

“Do you have a good family.”

“It’s just my parents and I. I’m not close with them.”

“That’s too bad. Christmas is nothin’ good without a good family. Don’t worry much about it, kid. You’ll experience it someday when you find love.”

“You think?”

“I _know_ , it’s all about love. In the good Christmas movies, the main theme is love.”

“I see…” He began thinking of all the movies he’d seen, trying to connect to plot somehow to love.

“Don’t get too hung up over it, you’ll have your Christmas one day, you seem like a fine boy."

"Thank you."

"Where you headed, if you don't mind my askin'?" The old man winced slightly as he adjusted his legs. It was now that Frank noticed he had a cane laid under the row of seats. A wave of sadness for him washed over him.

"Going to get an oxygen tank."

"Why's that? You got breathing problems? I didn't think young folk even got colds anymore."

"No, sir." He chuckled. "I'm going to space, and I need an oxygen tank for my suit. I have one, but its older and I don't want to take the risk."

"Now, how you gettin' to space?" He asked, his hands gripping hard onto his knees. Frank figured they were in pain. "I thought they only 'low people who were older men. You don't look a day over 18. But, I guess, you can never tell these days, all these supplements and whatever. Everyone look young as they can."

"Oh, I'm only seventeen, sir." He swallowed, beginning to feel uncomfortable now that he noticed how much pain the man seemed to be in. "I built my own machine in my basement, spent lots of time on it. Since it's not a government run exploration, I can travel through since I made it myself. I asked a lawyer, that's the only loophole. That's why I did it alone, because if I did it with another person, we'd have to go together every time."

"You not much of a people person, huh?" The old man chuckled.

"I guess not."

"I can't relate. I always been so uncomfortable being alone. Excuse my openness, but I want to share as much as I can before my light burns out."

"I understand."

"You’ll have to excuse me now, this is my stop.” He stood up with a low grumble in his chest. "Good luck with your space mission. If gravity is any better, let me know. It's takin' a real toll on all my old joints."

“Wait-” Frank stood up and stopped him before he exited. “Where’s your flower shop?”

“Take this.” he pulled a small rectangle from his breast pocket and laid it in Frank's palm. “I open at dawn, close after dusk.”

Frank looked at it. It was an old fashioned business card. The ink was pressed into the card stock, unmoving and one dimensional. It read of his name, his business, the phone number, and address.

_Elwen and Ambrosine Flowers._

_998- 456- 2592_

_13178 N. Reygard Ave._

Next to the information, there was a nice image of a bouquet of nicely arranged flowers. He stuck it in his wallet as he sat back down for the last half hour of his trip.


	2. Two.

With his space suit zipped up tight, he pulled the slick helmet on. The oxygen tank on his back was already leaking into the bulb. He took a deep breath to make sure his CO2 release was working. The lock clicked next to his ear as he turned it in place, keeping it stable. He picked up his notepad and went through the checklist again. Helmet. Oxygen. Carbon dioxide release. Zipper on the back. Zipper on the chest. Buttons on the neck. Bottom of pants buttoned. Shoes tied tight. Gloves. And a cable connected to his waist. He pulled the cable farther from the base and pushed the button over where his bellybutton would rest once to test it. It jerked his body back towards the base.

“Shit,” He fell backwards, landing roughly on the seat of his pants. “Nice.” He patted the base twice and pushed the slack button. He walked over to the portal.

The stack of papers on his desk next to the black mass was shifting slightly. As if they were being blown on. Frank gripped a pencil like a toddler. Wrapping his fingers around it with the bulky gloves. He scribbled down.

_Air blowing from mass into room. A slight breeze. Come back to this._

He put a star next to it to remind himself. It came out as more of a scribble.

Before he could scare himself into not going in, he stuck his leg through. The black mass looked like it was sucking him through as it held his calf. The bottom of his shoe hit what he expected to be the ground. It felt fine to push into, but he tapped his toe on it to make sure. It felt fine. He brushed his foot around, feeling blindly for any obstruction. His breathing became ragged as fear began to well up inside his stomach, but he kept going. If he fainted, the helmet would wake him up.

Once half of his body was in, he felt like it was surreal. His head was still poked into the basement and he got a sudden rush of excitement that made him throw his other leg through. He went too roughly and ended up falling through, landing on his back. The tank strapped on his back pushed hard against his spine and clinked against his helmet. He groaned in pain, but knew if the suit wasn’t as padded as it was, it would’ve hurt worse.

With shaky legs, he stood up and took in his surroundings. Wherever he was, it was dark. As his eyes adjusted, he saw he was surrounded by rock walls. His feet took on a mind of their own and as he was still too afraid to move, they started going. His eyes scanned the area as his bottom half guided him blindly through. He kept his body close to the wall, stepping lightly to not make any noise. He was on foreign territory, had no idea what could be lurking around, waiting to kill him or take him as prisoner.

He turned a corner and saw a small oval of light far away. He couldn’t see what was on the other side, but he assumed he was on a planet in his solar system, the sunlight looking familiar. Or maybe another dimension with a same sun. He stared at it, too afraid to move.

“Alastair,” He spoke to the helmet. “Check the surroundings for any beings, please.” His voice shook and the helmet began to get hot with his heavy breath.

“No beings around, plant life is prominent.” The helmet spoke in a female voice. He had decided if he was scared, like he was now, a male voice might not be the most comforting route.

He continued down the dirt path until he was only ten meters from the exit. The brown and green colors of the outside poured in and he wondered why there was so much vegetation. He got excited, starting to wonder if there was water on this planet, what gases the trees filtered and needed to live. His legs began to move fast and soon he was jogging, leaving the cave behind.

He squinted when the bright sunlight hit him in the face. Around him, there were tons of pine trees decorating the area around him. Grass sprouted from the dirt and he reached down to touch it, becoming annoyed with the bulky gloves. He would never be able to pin exact textures or weights of things with the gloves smothering his hands.

“Alastair, is it safe for bare skin in this atmosphere?”

“Yes, Frank.” She confirmed.

He began to remove his gloves hastily, unzipping and unbuttoning them. Soon, he was freed from their confines. He stretched his fingers out, testing the air around him. It felt fine, nice actually. And he squatted back down, going to touch the grass with his fingers. As he began to pinch his fingers around a bright green blade, he heard the familiar click of the lock on his helmet and he froze, unable to move, speak, or breathe. The slight hissing of air being pumped through his helmet stopped and an innate fear of suffocation punctured his heart. It seeped into his stomach and his hands flew to the glass covering his eyes, holding it down.

Alastair, what are you doing?!” He exclaimed hysterically. “ _Don’t!_ ”

“It’s safe.” She said simply, before lifting the glass visor away and retracting it up into the helmet. A choked scream struggled to escape his throat and he held tightly onto the sides of his helmet. He held his breath in his lungs. “You are free to remove me. There is no need to have me on. And you can breathe, you can survive here.”

“Alastair,” He whispered. “Are you sure?”

“You are breathing, aren’t you, Frank?” She asked, a slight twinge of comedy in her voice. “You are safe without me.” She repeated.

He was breathing, he was sure of that. And it was fine, it actually felt better breathing this air rather than the air at home. His lungs felt more open and his lungs were able to stretch to their maximum capacity. It smelled like pine, and he drew the scent deep into his lungs. Slight relaxation was poured over his head and dripped over his whole body and he decided to remove the helmet.

Though it was already unlocked, and the cover lifted, it felt very alien to remove his helmet in a situation like this. It was almost insulting. He had spent years hand crafting the helmet, programming Alastair to calculate if atmospheres were safe to be in, wake him up if he went unconscious, scan for life forces, and measure his stress levels and heart beat. Now he didn’t need her.

He pulled the helmet off and there was a rush of air that sounded as the pressurized gas escaped into the open air. He set it down delicately on the dirt ground. He began to want to take the space suit off. Alastair said it was safe for bare skin, and his bare hand hadn’t shown any sign of trauma. There was no melting, burning, pain, or itching. He untied his shoes and removed them, taking his socks off too. He removed the space suit, unzipping the front and stepping out of it. The cool breeze felt nice against his bare skin that was damp with sweat. The cool air rose goosebumps on his body. He folded it and left everything sat next to the helmet.

In nothing but his underwear, he began to inspect the trees, grass, bushes, and other vegetation around him. He took specimen bags from the pocket of his space suit and began to collect things. A yellow leaf lying on the ground, a twig from a tall tree, a couple small pebbles, and dirt. He had heard something rustle in the tree above him and was filled with primal fear.

Without thinking, he widened and sturdied his stance, readying himself to fight. The scientist type thinking in the back of his head was talking while the front of his brain was filled with thoughts of how to survive a fight. A small, brown bird flew from a tree and away through the blue sky. He sighed, relieved and continued to scan the area for things to collect.

It was funny. Though he had never felt the instinct to protect himself from a grave danger, never learned how to fight a force he could not yet see, he knew what to do. The rush of energy he got was unmistakable as adrenaline. How did the minds of living beings know what to do when presented with a possible danger? And how in the world did people used to survive with so much adrenaline rushing through every day. Now, come to think of it, it actually felt kind of good to be so alert. 

But, it was a bird. _A bird._ Why would there be a bird here? Now that he looked around, everything seemed too close to earth. Strangely close. But earth didn’t look like this anymore. There were forests, but they were fenced off, keeping humans from invading. But there were checkpoints, if a human did get in, and happened to get lost, there were signs directing them back to civilization every mile or so. They were bright red, and as Frank looked around, there was nothing bright red in sight. He scrambled back to the helmet and put it on.

“Alastair, what is the atmosphere percentages here, right now?” He asked, frantic.

“78% nitrogen, 21% oxygen, .9% argon, and .03% carbon dioxide.”

“No, _no._ Not _Earth_ atmosphere. The atmosphere right here, where we are, Alastair. Please, do the calculation.”

“I did, Frank. And the atmosphere where you exist right now is 78% nitrogen, 21% ox-”

“Forget it.” He said, reaching his hands through the open rectangle to rub at his eyes. “Can you tell me the atmospheric pressure here?” He suddenly began to feel like the atmosphere was pushing down hard on his chest.

“Around 14.7 pounds per square inch.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, beginning to want to cry. “Are you positive, Alastair? This is very important, please don’t lie to me.”

“These numbers are the calculation I came up with, Frank. Lying is not in my programming.” She said, innocently.

“Thank you, Alastair. You may sleep.” He told her as he collecting his things and began walking back down into the cave, leaving the heavy helmet on.

-

 

After a couple days of moping, the courage and curiosity to go through again built up taller and stronger than the wall of fear and worry that had settled in his stomach. Frank didn’t bother suiting up this time, he knew the environment was safe last time, but he was weary of sudden changes that could have been made overnight. Maybe a shift in coordinates. Shift in a dimension or planet or galaxy. He stepped through hastily, not giving himself time to freak out about the possible dangers lying on the other side.

His foot hit the dirt again, the cool morning breeze hit his face and he started to laugh. He could breathe! The air here was fine. More than fine. It smelled amazing, to say the least. And he seemed to be in the same place. Though it was dark, he could recognize the curves and turns of the cave. It was definitely the same one. He walked down the trail, leaving the cave behind.

The sun was beginning to rise, and the open air felt cold on his bare arms. He shivered, considering going back and grabbing a sweater. He figured he’d be fine if he kept his body moving. He stared at his watch for a few moments, seeing that it seemed to be moving at a natural time. Though, to really conclude it, he’d have to compare it to the watch he’d left at home, see if their times still synced up. He had used a watch with the hands to tell time, they were pretty much ancient. Hard to get ahold of, but he had managed to find a few.

The trees began to thin and become further away from each other and Frank concluded that he was coming to the edge of the forest. He began to hear the noise of people talking and gradually, loud roars of conversation filled his ears and he jogged out of the woods, finally breaking through the line of trees. _People._ He saw people, standing in small groups and crowds across the street. _A street._ The fear that this was Earth filled him more by the second, but these people were not dressed like people from earth. The style reminded him of something, but he couldn’t pin it. He crossed the street and ran into a parking lot, looking around at the kids surrounding him, looking at him like he was from another planet. At this point, he might’ve been for all he knew. Jealousy of seeing people bundled up in warm coats burned him from the inside and he stared back at everyone.

Obviously he was not on earth where he had come from. The cars that were parked around looked different and the people around looked different. But everything looked so _familiar._ He could recognize the exact outfit he had saw stretched on a boy’s body, but _where was it from?_ Frustration built up of the knowledge sitting right on the ledge of his brain, ready to fall.

“Hey, who are you?” A sweet voice said behind him, he whipped his body around quickly. “You look cold, come here.” A blonde girl sitting on the hood of a bright red car said to him, her friends surrounding her car giggled, covering their mouths.

Frank walked over to her, keeping his head low and his hands in his pockets. “Hey,” He said. “Didn’t realize it’d be so cold today.” He shrugged.

“Jenny, give him Richie’s jacket.” The girl sat in the back seat reached down and picked up a soft looking purple sweater.

Frank thankfully took it and wrapped himself in it, sighing at the relief of his body warmth being trapped. “Thanks for this. I’m Frank.” He held out his hand for her to shake.

“Delilah.” She smiled and took his hand in soft, delicate fingers. “Keep it. You look like someone rattled your cage, you okay?” She hopped off the car and slowed towards him.

“What? Rattled my- oh.” He shook his head, it took him a moment to remember what that meant. “I’m fine, I’m a little nervous. I’m uh- I’m new around here.”

“Oh really?” The girl who had handed him the sweater asked, cocking her head to the side. “You look like Mary’s ex-boyfriend. Well- the one from a couple months ago. She’s a bit of a floozy, if you know what I mean.” The girls collectively giggled. “You sure you never did any back seat bingo with her?”

“Alright, enough.” Delilah put her hands up at Jenny. “She’s a bit of a loud mouth. Sorry about her. Do you have your schedule yet or do you still need to go get it?”

“Um, no.” He scratched his head. “Wait- yeah!” He realized he needed to fit in. “Sorry, I’m real jumbled up right now.”

“That’s alright.” She and her friends giggled. “You should go to the office and get your schedule before the bell rings.”

“Oh, yeah.” He said, turning around. “Thanks Delilah, you’re really nice. You too, Jenny.” He smiled and waved, jogging to the building that had the word office posted in huge black letters above it. Something was pulling him in there though he knew he should be off to better things. The need to fit in had always somehow managed to overcome his free will. A moment of wanting to turn around and figure out where he was exactly did flash in him, but he continued in through the doors. He greeted the lady sitting at reception and she looked up at him without smiling.

“New kid?” She said, looking through a stack of papers. He nodded. “Speak up, son.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m new.” He blurted out, startled.

“Alright,” She pulled out a white piece of printed paper. “Name?”

“Frank Iero. I-E-R-O.” He spelled out.

“Strange, there’s no name here. I’ll just assume this is for you and they forgot it.” She wrote his name in pen on the top before handing it to him. “Here’s your schedule.”

“Thank you.” Frank turned to leave. “I already graduated on another planet.” He mumbled to himself. Why was there a schedule here for him? Fair enough, his name wasn’t on it. But what were the chances of someone else new coming around? Did he belong here? No, that was ridiculous to assume they were expecting him. He didn’t even know where he was. It was useless to be here, he wasn’t supposed to be the new kid in some high school, he was supposed to be in space by now, exploring instant travel to the moon, mars, dwarf planets, planets outside our solar system. Not here.

He left the office and looked around, the other kids in the parking lot still staring at him. He wondered why. It’s not like anyone here looked significantly different, they were all human looking. Maybe his body had taken on a strange form he hadn’t noticed while he traveled through. He turned around to look at himself in the reflection of the glass on the office doors. He looked how he expected. Rumpled clothes, tired eyes, bedhead, but still him. Still human. He turned around, his body bumping roughly into another one. He heard the clutter of textbooks fall to the ground.

“Oh, jeez, I’m so sorry, man.” He bent over instantly. The boy was already bent over, collecting his books and Frank bumped his head into his. “Fuck, I-I’m so sorry, dude.” He picked up a book and stood up. He handed the book to the boy. “I didn’t mean to bump into you, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” The boy chuckled and pushed his round glasses up with the middle of his index finger. “You seem shaken up.” He said, rubbing the top of his head where Frank had knocked their heads together.

“I am.” Frank sighed. “Long story.” He inspected his outfit. Jeans folded into a cuff at the bottom, brown pointed toe shoes, and a black leather jacket pulled over a white t-shirt.

“Oh, well I have to get to class.” He began to walk away from him.

“Hey,” He caught him by the shoulder and he tensed up. “Will you help me out?”

“Uh,” He adjusted his glasses. “With what?”

“This is gonna seem like a strange question, but…” He sighed. “I mean, not that strange- I just-”

“Spit it out.” He craned his neck so his head was pushed forward a bit. “Just shoot.”

“What day is it? The full date?”

“October 17. Wednesday.” He said, squinting his eyes. It wasn’t a strange question at all.

“The year, too?”

“1956.” He said, shrugging.

“Nineteen- you’re not joking, are you?” Frank wondered if he was just being sarcastic. “Please don’t joke with me right now, I’m really not in the mood.”

“I’m not joking. 1956.” He repeated.

“And we are… on earth?” He looked up at the sky.

“Hm… yes.” The boy began to scan what Frank was wearing. He didn’t have any school supplies except a small notebook, about a third of the size of a normal size in one hand, and his schedule paper in the other. “Excuse me.” He pushed past him.

“Oh, goodbye.” He said, looking at the ground and chewing on his lip. Maybe he was just messing with him. He had hesitated on the earth question. Maybe this was a dimension where the people had to pretend to be on earth no matter what. No, that sounds like a ridiculous hypothesis, its a reach. But, dimensions could have infinite possibilities. So… it was possible. But it wouldn’t make sense, how would he end up here?

Frank looked down at his first period and noticed it was algebra. He sighed, relieved and wandered through the halls, searching for room three hundred fifteen. The halls were crowded and everyone was dressed up and looked nice. Frank began to feel a bit self conscious and wanted to go home. The feeling was familiar of being in highschool on his own time.

He began to speed walk past the two hundreds until he was met by the rooms with the three hundred labels on the outside. He made his way inside and greeted the teacher, who told him to stand by his desk until everyone was in. The bell rung and he watched the students pour in, all eyeing him like they were expecting something from him. He began to grow self conscious and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“What’s with your hair, man?” A guy with extra- combed and gelled hair asked Frank. “You look like you woke up like that.”

“I did. What’s with yours? Looks so stiff that it’ll break off.” Frank ran a hand through his own hair. A girl sat in the front row giggled quietly at Frank’s remark and he smirked at her, watching her face turn red.

“Alright, everyone sit down.” The teacher called out after the bell had finished ringing. “I’d like to introduce everyone to our new student. Uh,” He leaned over to him to get his name. “ _Frank_. Go ahead and pick an empty seat, son.”

Frank sighed, thankful he didn’t have to speak to the class about himself. He pushed his folded schedule into his pocket self consciously. He only had his small notebook and a pen to get him through the day. He hadn’t intended on attending school today. There was an empty seat next to a boy who looked to nervous and preoccupied to bother Frank. He set his sights on the empty seat.

As he got closer, he became nervous at the hands of the boy. He had a navy green sweater pulled over his body and a pair of jeans on. Obviously ironed. There was a pair of dark blue ankle socks being revealed from his cuffed bottom of his pants underneath his clean, black shoes. He looked very handsome in Frank’s opinion. His bright eyes darted over scribblings that he assumed were his notes for this class. A hand rested against the side of his face.

“Hey, I’m Frank.” He slid into the seat.

“I’m Gerard.” He flinched as if he’d been woken up. He smiled briefly, pulling at his textbook. His eyes met with Frank’s and dropped back down to his notes.  

“How are you?” He asked, recalling polite phrases he had forced himself to memorize for small talk for the convention he had presented his machine idea.

“Besides not studying for this quiz, my brother being upset with me, forgetting my lunch on the counter this morning, accidentally cutting my hand with a shaving razor this morning, and losing my car privileges, I’m just hunky-dory.” He sighed, rubbing roughly at his eyes. After a silent moment, he spoke up again. “I-I didn’t mean to come off as rude. That was unfair to you, I apologize.”

“No, don’t worry about it.” Frank was relieved he didn’t have to put up polite small talk with Gerard. “You’ve gotta let go of that steam one way or another. Anything else go wrong lately?” Frank laughed.

“I wouldn’t want to bore you.” Gerard spoke in a hushed tone, the teacher beginning to speak to the class. “Where’d you come from? I don’t believe I’ve seen you around.”

“I’m new around here.” He realized he didn’t have a textbook and felt awkward. Gerard had noticed too.

“You can share my book for today, if you want.” Gerard offered. “To be fair, I don’t use it much anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Frank asked, touching the corner of the book cover, beginning to flip through the pages.

“All I mean is, I’m not very good at this. Math is hard.” Gerard sighed. “I’ve gotta get my grade up soon or my mom said I’m not allowed the car ever again.”

“You drive?” Frank asked, astonished.

“I do drive. You don’t?” Gerard asked, not mocking him. “How old are you, by the way?”

“Seventeen, no I don’t drive.” He chuckled nervously. “Where I come from, nobody really drives themselves around anymore. The cars do it for us.”

“I’m not sure I understand.” He sat up straighter in his seat, noticing the teacher looking in their direction for the source of noise.

“It’s safer that way. Virtually no accidents when the cars are in control instead of the humans. I mean, there is open air travel, but you can only go so high because of the planes that are sometimes around. And if you run out of gas up there, I mean…” He whispered.

“I…” Gerard let the words sink in. “Did I mishear you, or did you say the cars are in control? And air travel other than planes?”

“You didn’t mishear me.” Frank watched the teacher scribble the words ‘Descartes quiz’ on the board.

“Frank, would you care to try the quiz?” The teacher asked him.

“I would, sir.” He smiled.

“If you say so.” He began passing papers to the front rows to pass them backwards.

“Damn it all-” Gerard hissed, digging through his backpack. “I had a cheat sheet, but I can’t find it.” He told Frank over the murmur of the rest of the class conversing. “I’m going to do horribly on this, my grade is going to be ruined.”

“Don’t worry, Gerard.” Frank laid a hand on his forearm, stopping him. “I know all of this, I graduated early and I’m a scientist. Let me help you out.”

“You… I thought you said you were seventeen?” Gerard took the stack of quizzes being handed to him and took two of the top before passing the rest to the table behind them.

“I _am_ seventeen.” Frank chuckled. “It's all a long story, let me tell you another time.” He began to write his name on the quiz. “You can copy my answers if you want.”

-

 

Frank brought a notepad to write down everything different here, but it wasn’t much. The only difference was the time period. Everything else felt very normal, like highschool all over again. The bell rang for lunch and he followed the crowd into the cafeteria, getting in line. Lunch lines move slow in all time periods, he thought to himself as his stomach growled. Finally, he was able to pick up a tray and start collecting lunch. Everything here looked better, he took a quick second to write that down. The food was _food_. Not the supplements molded into the familiar shapes he was fed at his high school or a mushy, tan colored shake. It was real, aromous food that didn’t have all the nutritional value he needed packed in. He made it up to the register and hoped he had enough money.

“Twenty cents.” The lady behind the register said.

“Twenty cents?!” Frank laughed. “You’ve gotta be joking!”

“Hey, you’re the one who got three puddings.” The lady defended the price.

“Wow,” Frank said, handing her a quarter. “Just keep the extra five cents, thank you.”

She grinned at him for the tip before he turned to look for a place to sit. He walked past a few tables, the constant feeling of other people staring at him was less interesting now, it was just annoying.

“Frank,” He turned to find the familiar voice. “Wanna come sit with us?” Gerard offered.

“‘Course.” He smiled, sitting with him. “Does nobody new ever move here, or what?” Frank sighed, sitting down across from him.

“There’s not usually anyone new around here. Why do you ask?” Gerard chewed on a slice of apple.

“Everyone keeps looking at me funny. Do I have a booger hanging from my nose or something?” Frank asked, lifting his head slightly. The boy sitting next to Gerard laughed loudly, he recognized him. “Hey! You’re the kid from this morning.” He pointed to the kid with glasses.

“Yeah, I’m Michael, my friends call me Mikey.” Gerard looked at him, confused. “This guy is a bit. He pretended he didn’t know what year it was. By the way, sorry if I was rude this morning. I can be a bit of a grouch in the mornings. It wasn’t personal.”

“I didn’t even notice.” Frank sighed, trying to remember if Michael had been rude to him this morning. Now that he thought about it, he looked very upset with him a few hours ago. “It was rude of me to grab you while you looked like you were in such a hurry anyway. No hard feelings?”

“None.” Michael smiled, sipping his drink. “I’m Gerard’s brother by the way. I suppose you two have already met?”

“Yeah, we have first period math together, Mike.” Gerard nodded. "He's really cool."

“Does the bad morning mood run in the family.” Frank teased, sipping on his drink. It was only water, but there was something different about it. Something better. The brothers didn’t respond, just looked at each other and began laughing. He would've never guessed they were related, but next to each other they looked so similar. 

“You do jokes?” The one he hadn’t met yet asked. He had a grown out buzzcut, but Frank could tell his hair was trying to grow in upturned curls.

“No,” Frank peeled the lid off one of his puddings. “I was just a bit jumbled up this morning. It’s been a weird day.”

“You can say that again.” Gerard nodded, thinking back to first period. “Ray, this is Frank. Frank, this is Ray.”

“Where’d you move to? And from where?” Ray asked.

“I didn’t really move, so much as I just ended up here.” Frank said, shoveling pudding into his mouth. He held back the urge to moan. It was sweet, toe-curling sweet. “I honestly don’t know how I got here, of all places.”

“Well, this guy's an odd-ball, don’t you think, Mikes?” Ray pointed his thumb towards Frank.

“Sure do, but it's better than being some normal ol’ greaser like every guy and his grandfather around this place.” Michael said into his sandwich. “I saw you talking to Delilah this morning.”

“You what?!” Ray exclaimed and sat up straight. “How was she? I’ve been trying to get her to notice me since the ninth grade!”

“Chill,” Frank picked his apple up. “She’s nice. You seem pretty hung up on her.”

“She’s a doll!” Ray said. “As if you don’t like her.” He scoffed sarcastically.

“Maybe to you, but she’s not my type. She seems too uppity, like she thinks she’s better than everyone else. She gives me bad vibes.” Frank shrugged.

“She’s a paper shaker!” Michael laughed. “They kind of _are_ better than everyone else.”

“No, they aren’t, Michael. You shouldn’t think like that.” Frank shook his head sadly.

“What’s that word you keep saying?” Gerard asked. “ _Vibe_? I’ve never heard that before.”

“Oh,” Frank swallowed the last bit of apple he was holding in his mouth. “It’s like _-_ just a gut feeling about someone and the kind of energy you feel from them, I guess.”

“You talk a bit different, no offense.” Ray stated. “You sure you didn’t come from the looney bin upstate?” He joked.

“I didn’t come from there,” Frank sighed, debating whether or not to educate Ray on why it isn’t funny to joke about people in mental institutions. He decided against it, for now. “I just talk like this because that’s how everyone talks where I’m from.”

“Strange world, everyone is different.” Ray sighed standing up from the table. “It was real nice meeting you Frank, I hope I’ll see you around often.” He patted his shoulder. “You coming, nosebleed?” He asked Michael.

“Uh huh,” He said with a mouthful of a sandwich. “I’m done, just gonna drink this on the way there.” He said muffled through bread. They left in a hurry.

“Where are they going?” Frank asked Gerard.

“Mikey said something about going to the field, a cheerleader practice I’m sure.” He sighed. “They both are desperate to get at one.”

“They’re nice girls, I guess.” Frank shrugged.

“I’ve never been interested in any of them, if I’m being honest.” Gerard said, his voice low. As if he was saying something top secret.

“And why is that?” Frank asked, finishing his second pudding.

“Oh- well… I don’t know.” Gerard stuttered through the few words, obviously nervous.

“Where I’m from, at the high school I went to, cheerleaders were not even close to how popular they cheerleaders here are.”

“Where you’re from.” Gerard repeated. “Where _is_ that, exactly? I believe you have yet to tell me where you came from.”

“Well, if I told you, I don’t think you’d believe me.”

“Why is that? What are you hiding?”

“I don’t have anything to hide, I just think you’d find it hard to believe me.”

“Is it that strange? Did you come from Germany or something?”

“No, not another country.”

“Are you a spy- A German spy?” He laughed.

“What’s with the German thing? Do I look German to you?” He said, framing his face with his hands.

“No, you don't. It's just humor.” Gerard shook his head as his laughter died down. "Are you from the the Soviet Union?"

"What makes you think I'm Soviet?"

"You're only wearing a thin sweater and it's freezing outside. They do well in the cold."

"And what's so bad about being Soviet?"

"Well- Communism!" Gerard said, dumbfounded. Was this guy completely disconnected?

"Oh, I remember." Frank thought back to the red scare. "I'm not a communist." He swore. "Or Soviet."

“Will you ever tell me where you came from?”

“I think I’d like to tell you, but not now. Another time?” Frank offered, smiling with the spoon against his lips.

“I suppose.” Gerard sighed, collecting his trash in preparation for the bell to go off any moment. “There’s no harm in keeping your origins hidden, I think. As long as they don’t threaten any one else’s life in some way.” He had actually began to worry about the spy thing. He tried to knock it out of his head, but it kept coming back. He blamed his father for talking about the conspiracy so often and so truly. Frank was not a German spy or from the USSR.

“I agree.”

“Do your origins threaten someone? Are you from out of the country?”

“Oh, yes. My big secret, if I tell you, you must remain silent.” Frank smirked.

“My lips are sealed.” Gerard mimicked zipping his mouth shut, locking it at one end and flicking an imaginary key far away across the cafeteria.

“I’m a spy,” Gerard’s heart jumped into his throat. “I came from outer space.” Frank lifted two straws on the sides of his head to take the impression of antennae. Gerard burst out laughing, the imaginary lock on his lips coming broken. “I was sent here by my leader to study the strange people of this planet. You’re my primary subject.”

“Oh, I am, am I?” Gerard laughed.

“Yes,” Frank nodded, crossing his eyes. “A very interesting specimen.” He poked one of his straws into Gerard’s laughing face.

“You _are_ quite the oddball, aren’t you?” Gerard said once Frank had lowered the straws and he stopped laughing.

“You think so? You don’t like it?” Frank asked, beginning to nervously pick the straw apart from one open end, trying to split it.

“I think you’re so entertaining. I’d love to see more of you.” Gerard said, a strike of an unpinnable emotion flashing across his eyes as soon as the words left his mouth.

“Yeah?” Frank looked at his neck, then his lips. He began to wet his own with his tongue. “It’d be my pleasure.” And as if on queue, the bell rang. Gerard, obviously flustered, collected his things quickly and left the lunchroom without throwing his garbage away.

Frank took his time and gathered his trash, also taking care of Gerard’s. He decided to leave early, no use in sticking around. He decided to go home and pile up everything he had learned today and figure out what exactly happened. Why he was a student in a high school in the 1950’s all of the sudden. He began down the crowded hallway, scared of the security guard that was destined to be waiting for him at the front door.

As he realized he would never come back, his chin lifted with some confidence. The bell rang again, shrill and ripping in his ears and the halls began to empty out. The front doors became visible, and he saw they were deserted. There was no guard, and he stepped cautiously through them, waiting for someone to stop him, but no one did. As he continued on the trail back to the cave that was calling his name all day, Gerard began to flood his thoughts.

-

 

“Thaddeus,” He said, tossing a small blue ball up above his head and catching it as he laid on the cool tiled floor. “Therapy?”

“Of course, Frank.” She said, lowering the lights and setting the room to a comfortable, but cooling 70 degrees Fahrenheit with a small breeze. As per Frank’s earlier requests. The moving air spread the smell of the woods that came from the open portal and he felt his spine crawl. “What’s on your mind?”

“I went through the portal, only to find myself far in the past. Not at all where I expected myself to be, Thaddeus. 1956, the year.” He sighed, squeezing a ball in a closed fist that rested on his chest. “I would fix my mistake immediately, and I know I need to. I know I need to continue the project, but I’m being pulled to go back. To not fix it.”

“And what is pulling you back there? Despite your want to go to space?”

“Gerard,” He sighed. This was the first time he had said his name out loud. He hadn’t spoke his name in his current year yet. It felt warm in his mouth.

“Who is _Gerard_?”

“A boy, I met him when I went through. I like him, we get along fine. Great actually.”

“Is it a physical, intellectual, sexual, or mix attraction?”

“All of it, a mix of all.” He said after a moment of thinking.

“And you say he likes you in the same way you like him?”

“I thought so, he gets different when we’re around. I went back through yesterday, and I sat at the treeline in front of the school and watched him in the morning. He was talking to people, but he kept looking back down at some book he had in his lap. His hair was moving just _barely_ enough in the wind that I could see it come out from under his hood. A front piece had been left to dangle.”

“You watched him from afar?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you engage him in conversation? Did you not want to talk to him?”

“I did, it’s just… different with him. I’ve never felt this way. I’m very scared of him rejecting me, Thaddeus. I’ve never felt this scared of rejection. Ever.”

“That, I can agree with, Frank.” She spoke. And she was truthful, nothing in her files she had of him for over a decade had shown a large fear of rejection. Nothing from the ordinary. Children were made to be confident, anyhow. “Why do you think you fear him rejecting you?”

“Because…” He thought for a moment, closing his eyes. Imagining he was lying in the forest just on the other side.  “I don’t know, Thaddeus.”

“Well, I sense that you want to go back. You don’t watch someone from a treeline if you don’t want to know them or at least know about them.”

“So what do I do?”

“Well don’t change the machine.” Thaddeus said. “Spend time with him, get to know each other, and live out romance. You haven’t had a partner yet, Frank. It’s an important part of being young.”

“I know that. I just haven't found anyone yet.”

“You haven’t looked.” Thaddeus pointed out, her voice spilling quickly from the small speakers hidden in the corner of the wall.

“I’ve been busy.” He began to toss the ball up and down again.

“At your own fault. Don’t overwork yourself into a state of isolation. You are young, your hormones are stabilizing themselves. But- where did you say Gerard was from?”

“1956. I time traveled, that’s the issue with my machine.”

“Oh, dear. Those people did not grow up drinking the supplements. They are not stable, their hormones are everywhere. A mess, they had two world wars so far. Those people are very impulsive and, shall I say, unstable.”

“So you don’t think he’s a good idea for bland, overworked, little ol’ me?” Frank chuckled, hoping Thaddeus wouldn’t pick up on the humor and instead just give him an answer.

“No, I think he’d be perfect for you. His overreactions might bring you back to life and fill the shell you call your body.” Thaddeus said, joking in her voice.

“Jeez,” He propped himself up on his elbows and let the ball fall from the air and hit his stomach. “Harsh much?”

“My apologies.”

“Forgiven, I took no offense anyway.” He laid back down.

“I don’t mean to be rude, you know that.” Her voice had taken on a softer edge. “But I sense that you don’t _feel_ much, Frank.”

“I don’t… feel?” He scoffed. “Of course I feel, Thaddeus.”

“I’m aware you feel emotion, but aside from your work? Do you ever feel intense emotions aside from accomplishments on your work?”

“Hm…” He began chewing on his nails. “I… can see that.” He admitted.

“I’m only trying to say that you should find things other than work to feel emotions over.”

“Like what? What is there to make me feel?”

“Romance.”

“Romance?” Frank repeated. He had fantasized about it for years, seeing it in old films, but now that there was a possibility it could happen to him for real, he was scared. “Yeah, you’re right, actually. I’ve seen it in films, it’s always a running theme that romance and love brings strong emotion.”

“I can imagine.”

“I don’t want to use him to benefit me though.”

“No, it wouldn't be using him. You have an attraction, Frank. Don’t let it slip away just because you are afraid to feel intense emotion. If you're correct and he has feelings for you too, he'd be just as happy to be romantic.”

“You’re right, you’re right. Drop a blanket on me. And a pillow.” The system lifted the storage platform and slid a pillow and folded blanket over to Frank.

“Is a velvet blanket okay?” Thaddeus asked.

“Velvet is perfect. Thank you, Thaddeus.” He got situated on the floor, wrapped in the blanket. He was too tired to move from the floor. “I think I’ll go to school tomorrow and be around Gerard.”

“I think that is smart. Please, have some romance. I’m starting to feel sad for you, watching all those love films.”

“You’re a robot,” He sighed, his face laid on the pillow. “You are not programmed to feel.”

“I know that. But if I could feel, I would cry for you. In theory.”

“Thanks, Thaddeus.” Frank began to feel himself start to drift. “Therapy is over for today. Please dim the lights and play soft, sleeping music. I prefer classical for this nap.” The lights dimmed to a dull orange glowing like a candle in the room and the music started very softly, lulling him. “Thank you, Thaddeus.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Frank. I am programmed for this, I cannot feel offended if you do not thank me.”

“I know that. I just want to.” He yawned, unable to open his eyelids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you took the time to read thank you so much :-) i appreciate it tons!!


	3. Three.

Frank walked down the sidewalk with Michael and Gerard on the way back  to their house. They had invited him over for dinner, but he declined and said he had to go home. Michael had asked where he lived. He'd lied and said he lived near where the Way house was and now regretted it. Every now and then, one of the brothers would ask Frank if it was his street. They’d point at houses with pretty cars parked outside and trimmed trees and say _is this you?_ He'd say _no, not yet._ But he felt growingly guilty for lying. Though, what else was he to do? The last thing he wanted to do was tell anymore lies. He was growing close with Gerard and it felt oddly wrong to even tell a white lie.

He had hung out with Gerard after school on the bleachers in front of the football field nearly everyday for the past week. Sometimes he would come back from his year in the afternoon hours after he’d left school just to see him. When the evenings came and Frank was stuck at his home, two hundred years in the future, his mind immediately flew to Gerard. He looked up music he had mentioned and the television show he loved so much. I Love Lucy. He had watched one episode, unable to watch the rest for how unbearable he found it. He had felt guilty in a sense, but he made up for it for listening to and liking some of the music Gerard did.

“This is our house.” Gerard pointed and sighed, walking up the driveway. He’d never admit it, but he hated to say goodbye to Frank. There was always an edging feeling that once Frank left, he would never return and Gerard would be left alone and hurt.

“Oh, okay. I'll see you guys later probably.” Frank waved and turned. He felt his ears grow hot as he figured he’d have to keep going up the sidewalk, then find a way out.

“Wait, Frank?” Gerard took a step closer to Frank and Michael kept going inside, driven by the need for a snack. “Are you alright? You seem really bothered. And what do you mean _probably_?”

“I can't really explain it right now, Gerard. I really want to but... I don't know. If I get the chance, I'll tell you about it later?” Frank stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Why can’t you tell me, Frank?” Gerard asked, his brows pushing closer to each other. “I want to know you, we get along amazing. I’ve never…" He sucked in a sharp breath and let it go with a shake of his head. "Oh, never mind. I just want to know if there’s something wrong? Why won’t you tell me what's the matter?”

“I just _can’t_ , Gerard.” Frank shrugged, looking down at his feet. He was suddenly overcome with the need to _look at_ Gerard. Only to keep an image of his face in his memory, to remember what it was like with him in this moment. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, meaning it.

“Do you move around, is that it?” Gerard stepped closer so they were only a small distance apart. “You won’t be able to stay for long?” Gerard could smell Frank and he smelled sweet. Wondered if his home smelled like that.

“No.” Frank shook his head. “That’s not it.” _I could stay forever, hypothetically. We could find a time loop together, go even further back in time and never age. Stay together forever._

“Are you an orphan?” Gerard asked, tilting his head.

“No.”

“Are you homeless?” A slight breeze blew Frank’s hair slightly and Gerard wanted to reach out and comb it back, but he held his hands tight by his sides. Went as far as to stuff them into his coat pockets.

“No.” Frank lifted his hand and patted Gerard’s shoulder. “Nothing like that.” The wind had dragged Gerard’s scent from his body and into Frank’s face. And he smelled good. The smell of his pomade drifted from his hair.

“Then what is it?” He looked at him, begging for an answer. “Would you please tell me? I swear, your secret is safe with me. Even if it really is so unfortunate, I won't change my perception of you.”

“I _told_ you,” He shrugged. “If I get the chance in the future, I'll tell you. But now just isn't the time. I don’t even understand it myself. I’m sorry Gerard, I just can’t tell you right now.”

“Oh, okay then.” He nodded, sighing. “My apologies for pressing. I'll see you at school tomorrow?”

“You might. I hope so. Goodnight Gerard.” Frank smiled and turned, continuing down the sidewalk, wondering if there was a way out of the neighborhood without passing their house again.

-

 

Frank paced back and forth in front of the machine. The pen sat on his tongue and he began to chew, far lost in thought. _What did I do to make a time machine?_ Nothing. _I must've done something._ Not intentionally. He fell into his desk chair, the wheels rolling backwards a bit on the slick floor and he planted his feet, feeling frustration build up into a headache. Something had to be done. A million things were done and tweaked on this fucking machine. But what was the one thing that made it tick? What if the power had ran down and it stopped working before he could figure it out? He wouldn't be able to go back.

“Gotta go over everything. Top to bottom. Step one through step one fuckin’ kajillion.” He mumbled as he scribbled in his notebook. “Need to go over years of notes, look specifically at the last hundred tweaks.” Began to dig through his bookshelf, pulling his oldest notebooks from the dresser.

He sat on the floor surrounded by the notebooks each dated with a crude drawing of numbers in permanent marker on the front. After skimming through the ones from the beginning and copying each change he made into his pocketbook, he finally reached the ones from this year, January through March was all that fit inside of it. February looked to be an especially busy month and he laughed to himself at how awful it was. On Valentine’s Day he had forgot to switch the fans on inside and the motor overheated and exploded, setting the whole machine on fire. He had to replace the motor and frame. Most other things had made it out alive. He’d looked over the details of how he had built the machine this time. Nothing but the brand of screws were different. He wrote that down.

With a huff, he began on the April through August book. The hot months took a foggy toll on his brain and he had trouble focusing on the machine. He read every word and every math formula he had gone through. So many were scribbled out, not having a solution. Every paragraph going off on a tangent on something as insignificant as what color the lights should be drove the knife of anticipation further into his aching heart. He noticed he had changed the type of wiring in June. The brand he had bought before had glass inside that he realized was thicker than it had to be, so he bought more expensive wires. He couldn’t remember the brand, but he wrote that down too, hoping it would come back to him.

September through current book was by far the fullest. It was already almost full, he guessed about thirty empty pages were left. He began reading through every change he had done on the machine. Changing the variables in the formula to calculate the pull of gravity from inside the machine until he got the right number that fit. He wrote that down. The composition of the melted metals he used to fill the base of the machine. He wrote that down. The amount of electricity he had put against the cooling system and force of the new atmospheres he was expecting. Wrote that down.

As he scrutinized every word of the notebook, he wrote down everything he had done differently in his pocketbook. He put the notebooks back on the shelf and laid in front of the machine. He read over the long, bulleted list that covered twenty nine pages front to back. There was no way he could easily figure out which change had the direct effect on the machine. Or if there were multiple changes working together. Maybe it was just a fluke and he was stumbling around in the dark at this point. Either way, he wanted a second opinion.

He stood up, pulled his hoodie on, slipped his shoes on and stepped through the black with his eyes shut.

When he opened them he was back in the same place. He began down the trail, stuffing his hands in his pockets and jogging slightly, wanting to ask someone for the date and time. The fresh air filled his lungs and his breathed deep. _Is the basement getting this air?_

He broke through the treeline and saw the school across the street. _Empty._ He shuffled down the sidewalk, keeping his eye out for a person with a watch.

“Excuse me, sir?” Frank put his hand out toward a man with high pants and suspenders. “May I bother you for just a second?” He felt embarrassed about his lazy outfit.

“Sure, son. What do you need?” He took off his hat and laid the opening against his chest.

“Would you happen to have the date and the time?” He craned he neck eagerly to the man's watch. "So sorry to trouble you." He had worked on picking up the certain way people talked here and began to try to mimic it. 

“Are you lost?” He looked over his outfit. “Do you need some help?”

“No, sir. I'm not lost. Just need the date and time.” The man wasn't seeming to buy it. “I went camping with my old man for a few days and I forgot to bring a watch or calendar. Just slipped my mind. I walked out to town just to find out when I had school next.” He lied swiftly.

“Oh. Are you having fun?” His eyes lit up and he began to read the time.

“Yes, sir. Thank you for asking.” Frank folded his hands behind his back.

“It's October 27, Saturday. 8:57am.” The man said with a smile and began to walk again. “Good day, sir. Hope I was of help.” He raised his hat to his head.

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” He had left home at 8:45 sharp. Caught sight of his watch right before he stepped through. He imagined the twelve minute time difference was enough to account for on behalf of wandering down a trail lazily and locating a stranger.

-

 

Gerard rubbed at his eye, his nose and cheeks were tinted a slight pink shade. His hair wasn’t done up and combed as usual and he was wearing green pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt. He yawned and opened the door wider, inviting Frank in. While still yawning, he began to talk.

“Hey, Frank.” He blinked twice, ridding his eyes of the tears that had formed. “Didn’t see you at school yesterday, were you sick?”

“No,” He grinned, going inside. “Just didn’t feel like going.”

“Oh, alright. What are you doing here?” Gerard asked, shutting the door.

“I wanted to see if you wanted to hang out or something. I have nothing to do and I was just… in the neighborhood.” Frank shrugged, beginning to look around at his surroundings.

“Yeah, I’d love to. My mother and Mikey went out for the day to run some errands, so are you fine with just hanging out here? I really have no where in mind to go.”

“That’d be great, dude.”

“Okay, do you mind if I grab a quick shower and get dressed? I just woke up, if you couldn’t tell.” Gerard said, not moving anymore near the stairs.

“Oh- no, I don’t mind. Go ahead, Gerard.”

“I’ll be quick!” He said, rushing up the stairs. “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen if you want. There are records on the desk over by the wall next to the couch!” He said before, what Frank assumed was, the bathroom door shut.

The walls were painted light blue, so light you would assume it was white if you didn’t stare for too long. There were two gray couches, one slightly curved and had three long seats. The other one was short and had two seats. A wooden coffee table sat between the couches in front of the TV, decorated with a newspaper, a half drank cup of coffee that wasn’t steaming anymore, and an empty black ceramic bowl. In front of the furniture, sat a small, dark television. The edges were round and it looked clunky. Frank found the record player and began delicately flipping through the stack of vinyls.

He touched each one delicately, feeling as if he was handling such an ancient artifact. As he read each one, looking at track A and track B, seeing if he could recognize any. Gerard had mentioned a few titles, some of which Frank had heard and some of which he had not. He put a few aside, wanting to hear them. Ancient artifacts. Made after Gerard. He was ancient, Gerard was old in Frank’s time. Gerard would not have survived long enough to even imagine where Frank had came from.

But he was not in his time, he was in Gerard’s time and he was not ancient in this time. He was not a piece of history, he was just a person. Frank stood still, holding his breath as he began to think about how different Gerard was from him. How long ago he existed. How strange it was to be friends with someone who wouldn’t have been able to survive long enough to even see Frank’s birth. People from this time period don’t live as long. Some until their 80’s, 90’s if they’re lucky. The water shut off and the sudden change of noise broke him out of his trance.

He took a vinyl off the top of the stack he had set aside and put it on the record player delicately. He had never used one, but he had seen it from afar. He was very careful to not get his fingerprints on the record. He was very weary about that. The man who he had bought the old DVD’s from had said to not get his fingerprints on it and not to scratch it, he could imagine the delicacy of something much older. He placed the record on the holder and made sure it was on. It began to turn and he carefully lifted the needle, dropping it on the outer groove of the record. A heavy weight of worry lifted off him as the song began to play.

“I love this one. Its brand new.” Gerard said about the song as he came down the stairs, his hair hung loosely, but he held a comb and pomade in his hand. A towel was slung over his shoulder.

_Earth angel, earth angel, the one I adore._

“I love this one too.” Frank said.

_Love you forever. And evermore. I’m just a fool, a fool in love with you._

“Are you hungry? I am.” Gerard asked, walking into the kitchen. He rubbed the towel against his hair, drying it until it was damp. He left his comb and pomade on the coffee table.

“I could eat.” Frank said. Though he had had his breakfast supplement already and felt no hunger or need to eat yet, he didn’t want to turn him down.

“Go ahead and sit down if you want, you could turn the television on. Mom doesn’t care if we watch it so often on the weekends.” Gerard said from the kitchen. Frank could hear him shaking dry cereal into bowls. He pressed the button on the top and the gray screen turned on. He sat on the couch. “Do you like cereal?” Gerard asked, carrying two bowls.

“I’ve never had it.” Frank said scooting over so Gerard could sit next to him. He set the bowls down on the coffee table. He pulled the album off the turntable, the song already over.

“Oh, does your mom not buy it?” Gerard asked, turning the volume of the television up enough so they could hear it before sitting down.

“No, we don’t really eat where I come from.” Frank said, picking up a spoonful of the milk and cereal.

“You don’t eat? Well, aren’t you starving?” Gerard began eating.

“No, we have these… supplements. I guess you could call them.” Frank took a bite. “Oh, my god, this is really, really good.”

“It’s just rice krispies, but go on.” Gerard held back the urge to grin at him.

“Oh, well, we buy this powder in bulk. And we mix it with water and we drink it as meals. There's breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They all have different nutritional values, but we get everything we need. We have things to chew on since our jaws start to ache after a while of not using them.”

“Everyone eats the same thing every day?”

“Well, if you have the extra cash you can go to a doctor and have him write the mix you need. If you’re an old lady you probably want more calcium than someone like me, you know?” Frank took another bite and held it in his mouth, tasting it.

“So you never eat real food? Just that powder?”

“No, there’s still food, it just became inconvenient. My family has normal dinners every once in awhile, whenever my mom has time to cook.”

“And are there restaurants?” Gerard asked.

“Yes, a few. Not many, but you have to reserve in advance for most. They’re very expensive, I’ve only been a few times.”

Gerard had finished his breakfast and began to feel his hair. It was damp, fine for the pomade to sit in his hair right. He opened the tin can and scooped a bit of the goop out with his finger. He rubbed it in his hand and began running his fingers through his hair, beginning to put the pieces where they went. He wiped his hands on the towel. With the comb he parted his hair on the side and combed the left side flat. He lifted the front a bit as he combed it back. With the tip of the comb, he used the tooth to pull a small lock of hair out and he wrapped it around his finger to curl it. He left it to hang in front of his forehead.

“You do that every day?” Frank asked. He had watched him the whole time.

“Yes, why don’t you?” He asked, looking at Frank.

He shrugged. “Another cultural difference.”

“Do you mind if I do your hair?” Gerard asked, turning the comb over in his hand. "Just for fun."

“Like yours?” Frank asked, reaching up to touch his flat hair.

“No, differently.” Gerard said, his mind wandering off to what he could do. “But with the pomade, of course.”

“Sure, I don’t mind.” Frank said, sliding off the couch. He sat down in between Gerard legs on the floor, waiting. Gerard cleared his throat and shifted slightly, but began combing through his hair with his fingers. “Is it okay for me to sit like this?”

“Yes, it’s fine.” Gerard said, opening the can.

Behind his head, Frank could hear Gerard rubbing the hair product around in his hands. A moment later, he was carefully spreading it through Frank’s hair. He closed his eyes, the feeling of Gerard working against his scalp felt calming. The teeth of the comb was a nice feeling too, Gerard was extra delicate, but he preferred his fingers on his head. He combed the sides flat and combed the front up and inwards. Frank could feel that he was curling the top. The modernization of the elephant trunk hairstyle had come back in late 2170, but he was too young to participate in it anyway. A bit hung out over the top of his forehead and Frank could see it was curled.

“I’m done, care to see?” Gerard asked, putting the comb back on the table.

“Yeah,” Frank said, smiling. “Mind if I see in the bathroom?” Gerard shook his head and Frank raced up the stairs, Gerard close behind him.

“First door you’ll see.” Gerard said and Frank saw the shower curtain. He pushed in and crouched in front of the mirror. His hand reached up to touch it, but he held back, not wanting to ruin it. “Do you like it?”

“It’s amazing. You did this in no time.” Frank touched a dainty curl that hung. “I love it, I do.”

Gerard smiled and stepped away from the doorframe he was holding on to to let Frank out. “Do you want to go out?”

“Go out where?” Frank asked.

“Just out. I’m not sure.” Gerard said.

“I’m not dressed, but I would love to.” He followed Gerard into a room he assumed was his.

“Would you want to go by your house and change?” Gerard asked, wringing his hands.

“No, I- I don’t have any clothes like this.” Frank began to feel embarrassed.

“You can borrow some of my clothes if you want.” He offered.

“You’d let me?” Frank smiled, feeling a twinge of something in his stomach.

“Of course, come look.” He opened the wardrobe, revealing an array of shirts organized by color.

“You have these from lightest color to darkest?” Frank chuckled as he fingered through the shirts, pulling out a navy blue button up.

“Yes, I get a bit cooped up sometimes. I don’t go out often.” Gerard offered him a pair of jeans. “Do you want to borrow some shoes?”

“Sure.” Frank said, pulling his shirt off. He pulled the shirt over his shoulders and began buttoning it up. “Why don’t you go out?”

“I do, but not often.” He handed Frank the jeans, turning around. He felt too embarrassed after seeing Frank’s bare chest to look at him without pants on. “I don’t have anyone to go out _with_ , I suppose.” He heard the zip of the jeans and turned back to look at Frank.

“What about Ray, that’s his name, right?” Frank tucked in the shirt, noticing Gerard’s was tucked in too.

“Yeah, that’s his name. But he and Mikey are much closer than he and I. I still go out with him and Mikey, but I don’t know that I’d ever go out somewhere with him alone.” He handed Frank a pair of shoes.

“You don’t feel close to him?” Frank sat on the bed, pulling his shoes off.

“I guess not so close.” He sat on the bed next to him. “I still like him. A lot, actually. He’s a great friend, just not someone I could talk to. Do you have a friend like that.”

“Mm,” Frank hummed, beginning to tie the laces. “I don’t really have friends, other than you. I guess, there’s always Thaddeus, but she doesn’t really count.”

“Who is Thaddeus?”

“She’s a…” Frank sighed, finishing tying his shoes. “Robot.”

“She’s emotionless, you mean? The cold type?” Gerard asked standing up.

“Emotionless, yes. But it isn’t her fault, she wasn’t programmed with emotion. Cold, no. She’s actually very warm towards me.” Frank stood up and began to walk, but was stopped by Gerard who began slowly cuffing his sleeves.

“Programmed is a strange word to use.” He said, deliberately brushing his fingers against Frank’s upper arm.

“Not that strange.” He said, looking at Gerard’s soft eyelashes. “It’s okay if I leave my clothes here?” Frank said when Gerard broke away from his body.

“Yes, that’s fine.” He said, stepping into his own shoes. "I wouldn't expect you to carry them around, of course."

-

 

Gerard had led Frank to an ice cream shop where they were handing out cones through a window. There were a few people there, mostly girls. But he was getting less strange looks now than he was at school. He blamed that wholly on his outfit. They walked up to the window and Gerard waited for Frank to read the menu behind the cashier’s head. There weren’t many options, but he had never had ice cream before, so he didn’t know the difference of it.

“I’m not sure what to get, what do you get?” Frank asked, chewing on his lip.

“Right now, I think I want a vanilla cone.” Gerard said, bouncing on his heels. He saw a flash of fear in Frank’s eyes. “Are you alright- do you not want to be here?” Gerard asked, leading him by the shoulder away from the front of the stand.

“I’m okay… just a bit overwhelmed. Embarrassed, really.” Frank chuckled.

“Why’s that?”

“I’ve never had ice cream, I feel so lost here.” Frank began to become hyper aware of the pressure of Gerard’s fingers holding onto his shoulder.

“No need to be embarrassed. If you don’t want to try it, we can go somewhere else?” Gerard said, trying to make eye contact with Frank, who kept looking at the ground. “We don’t have to get any.”

“I want to try it. I’ll just get what you get.” He said looking into Gerard’s eyes finally.

He followed Gerard back to the stand and watched him prop his elbows up on the counter, rereading the menu. When the boy finally asked him what he wanted he said _two vanilla cones, please._ And the boy turned around and filled two cones with bright, tinted yellow ice cream. He wrapped the cylinder parts with napkins and handed them to Gerard and said. _Ten_ _cents._ Gerard handed him the cones to hold and he dug around in his pocket and fished out two nickles and slid them on the counter before thanking him and leaving.

As they left, Frank handed one cone to Gerard who began licking the top. They continued down the sidewalk and Frank finally built up the need to taste it. And it was sweet to say the least. He gasped and ran his tongue around all his teeth.

“It’s really sweet. And cold.” He said and Gerard began to laugh.

“That’s kind of the whole point.” They continued walking, about eight inches between them. “Want to go to the lake?”

Frank nodded, his mouth on the ice cream and followed Gerard across the street into the treeline. He wondered if they’d come across the cave and if he should invite him there. But the thought got shushed when he realized they had gone in without a trail to guide them, he didn’t know where they were. And it was completely a possibility, if not ineludible, to get lost. His chest began to tighten with fear, but Gerard strode with complete confidence, not thinking twice about it.

“Gerard?” He said, his voice coming out more timid than he intended for it to.

“Yes?” He said, still keeping them a respectful distance apart. Just in case anyone was out here.

“Do you know how to get to the lake? We won’t get lost out here?” Frank asked. He filled his mouth with icecream before he could say anything else that made him sound so childish.

“No, of course not. We won’t get lost. I know these woods like the back of my hand.” He said, recognizing the cave you had to turn left at and keep going straight to reach the water. Frank recognized it as his way back home. “I’ve been coming out here with Mikey since we were kids.”

“Alone?” Frank said, keeping his gaze on the cave.

“No, we had eachother.” Gerard joked. He noticed Frank was staring at the cave.

“Your mom wasn’t worried?”

“Well, we had to be home by sundown. She always said if she ever saw the twinkle of the first star before we were home, she would get the whole police department to track us down.”

“And did she ever have to?”

“Oh, heavens no. We were always very diligent on getting home on time.” Gerard said, beginning to eat the cone. “There’s nothing in that cave to worry about, you know.” Gerard said.

“You’ve been in there?” Frank said, beginning to worry that somehow he knew where he came from, that he had passed through himself into his room.

“Just the entrance. It looks like a deep cave, but I’ve never seen anything come in or go out. Its actually scary if you think about it. None of the animals bother it either.” Gerard said.

_I go in and out. I’m probably the reason nothing bothers it. I’m why it’s scary._

“Maybe it’s haunted.” Gerard joked.

“You think?” Frank said reaching up to touch a leaf. “You believe in ghosts?”

“I guess so, what else is there to believe in?” Gerard said and became a bit scared. “I mean- God- of course- he-”

“I don’t believe in a god.” Frank said easily.

“Oh,” Gerard sighed in relief. “Everyone seems to these days.”

“Not where I come from.” Frank said, reaching up again to touch another leaf. “There’s a lot of trees in your guys’ yards, big ones too.

“You don’t have that?”

“No, we’re allowed two trees at maximum. There are designated places for trees to exist though.”

“That sounds… awful.”

“It… is now. Before I got here I didn’t really know any better.” Frank shrugged.

The river came into view as Frank finished chewing the last piece of his cone and Gerard started jogging towards it. Frank followed, not sure what people _did_ at a river. There was a boardwalk that ended about ten feet into the water. Gerard began collecting rocks and Frank walked down to the edge of it, sitting with his legs criss-crossed. He watched the water for a moment, blue and glistening in the sun. He remembered the time he had seen the ocean, walked waist deep in it and became scared to be washed away, dragged out by the current to die in the cold, salty water.

Gerard flumped down next to him, letting pebbles fall from his hand and pile up on the wood. Frank felt a splinter push into his hand and he jerked it away, beginning to bite his palm to draw the wood out. Gerard couldn’t help but watch his lips rest against his hand. He shook his head to himself and began pulled his shoes and socks off. He dropped his bare feet into the cool water and Frank was still unsuccessful pulling the splinter from his tender skin.

“Take your shoes off.” Gerard said flinging a rock into the water. It skipped four times, impressive, but he knew he could do better. His record was eight times, Mikey’s was nine.

“It’s safe? To be in the water?” Frank asked, pulling his shoes off already.

“Yes? Do you mean about fish?” Gerard asked. “Because no one comes out here to fish anyway, there’s probably ten minnows in this whole lake.”

“Not the fish, just… it’s okay for your skin to touch?” Frank asked, prudently dipping a centimeter of his big toe into the water.

“Of course. Its that time of year where the air is cold but the water is still warm.” Gerard said, wagging his feet back and forth. The water came up just enough to tease his calf. He watched Frank slowly lower his foot into the water attentively. Wondered if he where he came from was that bad. “You know how to skip rocks?”

“Skip rocks?” Frank’s face lit up. The worry from putting his feet in the water had disintegrated into the sky. “I saw it in a film, I’ve seen people do that.” He was smiling now.

“You saw it in a film?” Gerard asked, laughing. “But do you _know how_ to do it?”

“No, I’ve never done it.”

“Here,” He handed him the pebble he was saving for later. It was perfect, and if he threw it just right, he thought he could beat his record of eight and impress Frank. “Hold it between these two fingers.” He touched his thumb and pointer, knowing he didn’t have to.

“Like this?” Frank gripped the flat, skinny rock perfectly.

“Yes, now lift your wrist a bit.” He angled his wrist himself, still aware he didn’t have to touch him to teach him. “And throw it with a sidearm toss. Flick your wrist, like this.” He tossed a rock and watched it skip three times.

Frank watched the rock bounce up on the surface and hit it again three times before it went under. Next to him, Gerard had let out a quiet breath. Frank knew it was his turn now and he held the rock in damp fingers, beginning to chew his lip in concentration. He sucked in a breath and held it as he tossed it, flicking his wrist like Gerard had told him.

“ _Damn,_ that was cool.” Frank said when the rock skipped once and disappeared. Though he had never skipped a rock before this, there was something comfortable and familiar about it.

Gerard picked a rock out of the pile and skipped it quickly, not putting nearly as much thought into it ask Frank was. It skipped five times and sunk. Frank looked at him, laughing, his eyes twinkling. Gerard smiled at him, feeling warmth drop in his stomach and spread. Alongside that was fear that someone would see them. He scanned the area with his eyes, looking for someone, but his eyes didn’t see anyone. And he decided against scooting away from Frank.

Frank skipped another one after he had decided he watched enough of Gerard. It skipped four times and Frank cheered himself on, becoming increasingly excited with every bounce it took. Gerard clapped for him, propping himself on his elbows and pointing his face toward the sky. The sun had left the noon highpoint a couple hours ago and, he guessed, was an hour and a half away from setting. He had become good at figuring out when the sun would set as a child.

Soon enough, the rock pile was left with one rock left after Frank had been practicing. The most he had skipped was four times, no world record, but still unprecedented territory to him. He offered the last rock to Gerard and he took it, reaching over and pushing his fingers into Frank’s palm as he took it. Gerard pushed off his elbows and stood up. Frank leaned back, watching the water, waiting for his rock to reach it. Gerard skipped it and it bounced once, twice.

“That was _nine_!” Frank yelled. “Are you fucking kidding me, that’s outstanding!”

“That’s Mikey’s record.” He shrugged, sitting down. “Once more and I could have bragged to him about how I beat his record.

Frank looked up at the sky, the sun looked like it was getting close to setting and he wondered if the rule still applied. Gerard looked relaxed, so maybe it didn’t. He didn’t seem worried about it.

“Do you still need to be home by sundown?”

“Yes,” Gerard laid on his back, his feet still waving around in the water. “But I have about another hour before I need to race home.” He smiled, letting his head roll over so he could look at Frank, who was hunched over as he tenuously pet the water.

“Ah,” He said, feeling the calmest he had felt in a long time.

“When do you have to be home?”

“I don’t have a curfew.” Frank said. “I hardly see my parents anyway.”

“Why’s that?” Gerard wanted to reach out and rub his back.

“Oh, just work, I guess. I don’t talk to them often. We aren’t close, never have been.” Frank said, feeling like a weight was lifted. He had talked to Thaddeus about how he felt about his parents, but it felt different to say it to an actual living person.

“Aren’t you sad about that?” Gerard asked. He acted on his want without thinking, sitting up and laying a hand between Frank’s shoulder blades. He began rubbing back and forth.

“You can’t be sad for something if you never knew what it was like to have it.” Frank shrugged. Goosebumps began to rise on his arm. Gerard touch was electric. He was unfamiliar with it, very unfamiliar with this feeling. It made him want to run and hide, but also get closer to Gerard.

“Sure you can. I’ve never had a million bucks, but I’m sad that I don’t have it.” Gerard joked. “Are you cold?” He slid closer to Frank, removing his hand from his back.

“Yeah, I am.” Frank lied. Gerard was warm next to him, and he could smell him. He wanted him closer. “Can I tell you something, Gerard?”

“Anything.” His mouth was close to his ear, so he spoke just above a whisper.

“Sometimes… I feel like I have no one but Thaddeus. I feel very alone, I think.” Frank sighed, feeling like a twenty pound weight had fell from his shoulders and to the bottom of the lake. “And she’s a robot. Not a mean person, an actual _robot_ , Gerard. Programmed to take care of some of my needs. It isn't like she could actually _care_ about me. Or feel genuine love for me. I don't know, it just makes me feel alone, I guess.”

“You have me, Frank.” Gerard rested his head on Frank’s shoulder, cautiously. He shut his eyes, waiting for Frank to yell at him, push him off him and throw him in the water, beat him senseless. But he didn’t. Slowly, Frank dropped his own head on his.

“I’m scared I’ll lose you.” _If the machine stops working, I can’t come back. I can’t repair it. I don't know how._

“You don’t have to be.” Gerard let out a shaky breath. It was too frightening to let him do this out in public. Someone was bound to see them, and they would both get an awful punishment.

“I do.” Frank said. And the vulnerability in his voice inspired Gerard to allow them to sit there like that together for a little while longer, at least until the sun began to set and he would have to sprint home.

-

 

Gerard laid on the couch, his leg over the backrest and hanging, his foot slightly swinging. Michael sat on the floor as he thumbed through a book he had swiped from the bookstore. _Five finger discount,_ he’d say and shrug his shoulders with a complacent grin on his face. Gerard knew it was _shoplifting_ and he didn’t care that Michael was doing it, just the way he had to show it off bugged him. He had to admit, some of the records and books Michael stole were good, and Gerard enjoyed reading and listening to them, so he wasn’t going to go out of his way to stop him.

“Like my book, Gerard?” He smirked, holding it up. “The Sweet Science,” He said. “By A.J Liebling. Heard of it?”

“I’ve heard good things about that. It’s that book about boxing, isn’t it?” Gerard asked, standing up to put a record on.

“Yes, it is.” He closed the book. “No, Gerard, not while I’m reading.”

“You can read upstairs, _I_ want to listen to a record.” Gerard began looking through a smaller pile. Something Frank had set aside, he assumed. He dropped the needle on the record on the top of the pile.

“Well, can you at least have some common decency and quiet that thing?” Michael complained. The song began and it was one he didn’t like. I Hold Your Hand in Mine, by Tom Lehrer. “God, I hate this song. Put another one on, he’s awful.”

“You’re beginning to sound like Dad.” Gerard chuckled, leaving the record to play.  “By the way, I reached your rock skipping record today. Nine.”

“Oh, yeah? Couldn’t beat it though, huh?” He laughed sliding his book onto the coffee table. “Who’d you go skip rocks with?”

“Frank.”

“Frank?” Michael asked. “I like him, but isn’t he a bit strange?”

“I guess so, but he’s fine.” Gerard shrugged. "Don't you like strange people though, you  _are_ friends with Ray."

“I never said I didn't like him. Ray and I were actually talking about him the other day.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, and Ray thinks he’s from that hospital upstate. You know the one. St. Joseph’s home for the… ah, the… what do they call it?”

“I don’t know, Mikey, but he’d not from there. He didn’t come from St. Joseph's.”

“But it’s possible. He dresses like he’s incompetent, he asked me what _year_ it was, he talks funny, when you ask where he’s from, he gets rattled.”

“Okay, so what if he is?” Gerard asked, becoming a bit hurt at Frank’s expense.

“So what? What do you mean so _what_?” Michael asked, standing up. “He’s probably had his brain scrambled.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Gerard shook his head wildly.

“I guess, but just think about it, alright.” He patted his shoulder. “Dad’s getting home soon, I gotta go help mom with dinner. Just think about it, I don’t want you to get hurt, alright?”

“He’s not going to hurt me, goddammit.” Gerard snapped, turning to look him in the eyes. “It’s fucking rude to pin anyone and everyone in the looney bin as violent!”

“But some of them  _are_!” He yelled. “I don’t know why you’re upset with me, I’m just looking out for you, Gerard.”

“I don’t need you to look out for me! I am not in any danger, Frank is not violent! And as far as I know, he is not from the looney bin!”

“But what if he is?”

“Then so-fucking-what? Why would that even be important to you? It doesn’t concern you, Michael! He is safe!” He began to feel his head get heavy with rage.

“Boys!” Their mother yelled, coming out of the kitchen. “What are you yelling about?”

“Gerard is friends with a guy from upstate!” Michael pointed his finger.

“He isn’t from upstate!”

“Gerard,” Their mother said as soon as she realized what was upstate. She took a step forward. “You better be careful. They are dang-”

“Stop it, mom.” Gerard put his hand up. “I won’t have this conversation. It’s useless. Please don’t say anything about this anymore. He is not mentally ill and he his not dangerous. Even if he is ill, if he’s from St. Joseph’s, it’s no one’s business but his, alright?”

He took the stairs two at a time, not bothering to turn the light on in his room since he planned to just fall onto the bed. The scent of Frank filled his head and he felt suddenly dizzy, wondering where it was coming from. He pulled his socks off and when he dropped his foot back on the foot of the bed, he felt the soft material of the sweatpants Frank was wearing. And suddenly he remembered he had Frank’s clothes, that he had gone home in his. He didn’t mind.

Gerard had sat up in bed and began to remove his clothes, dropping them on the cold floor before pulling Frank’s t-shirt over his head and his sweatpants on. He slipped under the covers, trapping the scent, hoping it would cling to his skin so he could smell Frank tomorrow. Though he didn’t want anyone to notice he smelled like him out of fear of what they might suspect, he let himself relax for now. He let himself be slowly lulled into a warm, Frank scented sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so so so much for taking the time to read :-)


	4. Four.

Frank woke up in his own bed and looked over at the clock mounted on the wall. It was in military time, which he never bothered to learn easily and he stared at it until he realized 13:40 meant it was 1:40pm. Panic filled him as he realized he had slept through the whole day and missed most of school. It was strange to think he was going to school then. Homework was easier than he was used to. The literature was pretty much a joke, he didn’t understand why Gerard was so confused. He assumed as humanity grew so did their ability to comprehend and collect knowledge.

He drew himself from bed and began to straighten up his desk, cluttered with his geography homework. He had learned it in second grade, his teachers giving the class reminders as to where the countries and continents were every so often through all years until it became second nature. They had even gone as far as to teach them the dominant languages, religions, and races of people living in those areas. He knew it by heart, so there wasn't anything for him to learn. 

More than once he had been accused of cheating. His geography teacher had even gone as far as to isolate him from everyone else, leaving him in a secluded circle about three feet in diameter. When he still passed, he had asked him to bring his parents in after to talk about a gifted program. Something about being put into special classes with other smart kids. He had politely declined, informing him he didn’t live close and would not be bringing his parents in. Frederick had nodded, got up from sitting on his desk, and smacked Frank in the back of the head. He had done nothing, afraid of what else he would get. 

He had asked his new group of friends if Frederick was allowed to do that and they had laughed at him. Apparently it was normal, among other things that baffled him. Paddling was a punishment, pulling ears, pulling hair, smacking heads, hitting hands- anything that his school board considered abuse. He had brushed it off, acting like he was used to it, but he noticed Gerard staring at him from across the table, thinking hard, not laughing along. Frank had the idea to build a mind reading piece of equipment when he could feel Gerard’s silent eyes on him. But decided it would be a bad idea. The only private place in the modern world should not be infiltrated. 

“Thaddeus, what day is it? And the time? Do I have anything on my schedule?” He asked the empty space.

“Good evening, Frank. Today is Friday, November 3rd, 2182. The time is thirteen forty eight. You have an empty schedule today. You have two emails, three missed calls from mom, and you left a note for yourself. Care for me to read it?” The clock responded in the too human, feminine voice. 

“Yes, please.” He stood from his desk, stretched, and trudged over to the platform. 

“Do not forget to fucking figure out what makes the machine do what it does.” The clock said, reading back the words Frank had told it earlier this week. 

“Thank you, Thaddeus. The time in standard, not military please?” He asked, waiting for the platform to raise a late lunch for him to drink.

“One forty nine, Frank.” The clock responded.

“Perfect, thank you.” He picked up the container and began drinking the thick drink. He hated missing meals because the next one was always loaded with the nutrients he missed. 

“Would you care to hear the messages your mom left?” 

“Mm, yes.” Frank said slowly. “But will you just say them, I don’t want to hear her voice.”

“Okay.” Thaddeus said. She took a couple seconds to collect what Frank’s mother had said before reciting it. “She says ‘I was wondering if you wanted to go to a pottery class with me. An old man teaches it so it's authentic.’”

“Let her know I’ll think about it.” He told the clock, and it obeyed, powering itself down. “Friday,” He said to himself, pulling his shirt off. “Thaddeus, I want to run.” He said, stepping onto the dressing platform. “Shoes, please.” And the shoes rose from the empty space in the white and wrapped securely around his feet. 

He stepped on the small band of track that was laid a meter from where he stood before. It began slowly rolling until Frank pushed the small button on the handpad that floated just at waist level and increased the speed until he was running at 15 mph. He  pressed another button on the handpad and sipped water from the fountain that was produced from it as he slowed down gradually. The water stopped and he increased his speed to 17 mph. His legs began to burn a bit, but he kept on going, deciding to push himself extra hard today. He had been slacking off for a long time and his physical performance was obviously hindered. 

Around his sixth mile, he began to feel his head fill with an emotion he couldn’t identify. It felt heavy and warm and he wanted to get rid of it. In the feeling, was thoughts of Gerard mixed in. A wave of curiosity about Gerard’s existence in his present time filled his chest and made him run faster in hopes of getting to his twentieth mile quicker. 

“Do you want music, Frank? I can tell you’re getting fatigued, I recommend the 1980’s one. It always helps you.” Thaddeus said.

“Yeah, thanks.” He panted and the music began immediately. He knew he had to push thoughts of Gerard out of his head and focus on regulating his breathing, but the song Thaddeus had played pushed thoughts of him further in. “You picked the gayest song on there, Thaddeus.”

“You like this one.” She defended it. “No longer?”

“Leave it.” He breathed out. It was actually helping him run faster, though the images of Gerard were being pushed in further from the music. 

_ And I think of your eyes in the dark _

_ And I see the star _

_ And I look to the light _

_ And I might wonder right where you are _

Frank wondered if Gerard could still be alive. The man who owned the flower shop was born relatively close to when Gerard was and he was still alive, roaming the city in the mornings and working in a flower shop. He was still healthy, though visibly old with his blood flecked eyes and white, thinning hair. The withering man was still alive. Still in love. 

Gerard was not old- Frank realized this. Gerard existed in his own time. But had he died so far? How would he have died? Old age? Murder? Car wreck? Laid up in a hospital bed with his eyes shut and skin lit by harsh fluorescent lights. Or in an retirement home surrounded by grandchildren and holding his wife's hand. His husband's hand?  _ Frank’s hand? _

_ I just want this to last _

_ Or my future is past and all gone _

_ And if this is the case _

_ Then I'll lose in life's race from now on _

“Thaddeus,” He panted, mile 9. “Can you look up an obituary for me?”

“I can. What’s the name?”

“Gerard Way.”

“Gerard…” She repeated the first name while her system put a search through her database. “I found an obituary, would you care for me to project it.” The find was expected, but it stung nonetheless. 

“No!” He said quickly. “Uh, just the picture if there is one. No text.”

“Very well.” She said, manifesting an image of an aged Gerard in front of him. 

He kept running, staring at his printed green eyes. He was standing with his arms behind him, his hands he assumed were clasped. There was a flower- maybe a daisy- hanging from the pocket of his jeans. He was smiling sweetly and a few stray pieces of dark hair fell onto his forehead. 

“Are there more? Any more pictures?”

“Yes, two more attached to be exact. Would you want to see them?”

“Yes,” His feet stopped landing so fast and the track underneath him slowed to a measly 5mph. “Project them.”

“Certainly.”

There in front of him were photos of Gerard, older than he was. But younger, so much younger than he was. In each photo he was smiling. All with teeth except for one. He was posed sat on a plaid couch, his arm draped over his brother. Both of them in suits. Gerard had his lips pressed and only lifted slightly at the corners, eye bags prominent even through the grainy composition. Mikey on the other hand was smiling with all his teeth, no glasses, and eyes crinkled at the sides. 

“Thaddeus, is there a date on the picture with two men?” 

“Yes. April 20th, 1960.”

“Could you look for events that happened on that date? Anything with the last name Way? Probably in the New Jersey area.”

“Yes, a marriage.”

“Who got married? The man’s name?” Frank’s heart felt flat. Had Gerard gotten married? 

“Michael Way.”

“Oh,” He sighed audibly and laughed once. “Thanks, Thaddeus. Keep the photos in a file, I might want them printed off sometime. But don’t mention them to me without me asking.”

“Of course.” She said hollowly, storing the photos away. Frank’s legs began travelling faster again. And he kept going until he felt like they were going to lock up and burn away. 

 

-

Frank slumped in his seat in math, there was so much more he could be doing. He had traveled back in time for god's sake and here he was. Back in highschool, sitting in a class he had passed long ago on a Tuesday morning. Twenty minutes before the first bell was going to ring. Then again, he technically  _ did  _ have all the time in the world, he could figure out how to go further back if he spent a little while longer on the machine. It was already running fine, he just had to find out what made it tick. He opened his notebook with his notes on the machine that he had brought with him. He drew a timeline of all the changes he had made, then wrote a list of all the chemical components of each material he could remember, its weight, purpose, and any known differences in the machine once it was added or removed.

“Good morning, Frank.” Gerard set his books down, pulling his jacket off and hanging it from the back of his chair. “How are you?”

“Oh,” He gasped slightly. “You scared me. Morning, I’m fine, you?” Frank was glad he had not looked at the obituary text, but it still felt wrong to see the pictures and know it existed. 

“Sorry,” He chuckled. “That wasn’t my intention. I’m not bad, can’t complain.” He sat down with a breathy sigh and began going over his notes, trying to understand how decipher his notes. “Frank?”

“Mhm?” He chewed on his pen.

Gerard opened his mouth and closed it again, trying to think of how to word it. “Uh, nevermind.” He said quickly, waving his hand. 

“What is it?” Frank said, setting his book down. 

“It was a question about you.” Gerard said, shaking his head. “I’m always asking you questions about yourself and they just get you worked up. It isn’t fair to push you like that- to try to make you tell me all about yourself.” He said each word, as if his tongue didn’t toss it out quickly they’d all built up and burn him up. 

“Shit, do I really?” Frank said, turning his body in his chair to face him. “I’m sorry, Gerard. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable or upset. I’ve been an ass about that, huh?”

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it.” He sighed, cracking open his workbook. 

“I’ll… start answering your questions about me.” Frank said. “I want you to know now. Before I didn’t because I didn’t think I would… get this attached to you.” He said lowly, aware that Gerard was nervous about people seeing them be close. 

“There is one that Mikey brought up last night. I figure it’s untrue, but I can’t help to keep thinking about it.” The upstate theory had made a lot of sense when he thought about it. And it ate away at him the whole time he held the question behind his teeth. 

“What is it? I’ll answer it honestly.”

“Are you from St. Joseph's?” Gerard said, sighing. He searched Frank’s face for a quick answer, but the only thing he received was a slight push of his brows. 

“Is that, like, a Catholic school?”

“No, it’s upstate.”

“What’s upstate?”

“The mental- the place where people who are mentally sick go… you know?”

“Oh! A mental health facility.” Frank breathed out. “No, no I didn’t come from there. I’m not mentally ill, where I come from, children are treated from the day they're born for their chemicals to be balanced so that doesn’t happen. If it does happen it's very, very rare.”

“Oh, well I figured you weren’t. But Mikey said something and it got me thinking. You can’t blame me though. You are very strange.”

“To you, maybe.” Frank said, shifting in his seat. His knee bumped into Gerard’s and he let it sit there for a moment before he shook it off.

“What do you mean?” He looked at his hands, holding each other tightly. “What’s the difference between people from where _you’re from_ and _me_?”

“Gerard, I…” He sighed. “I’m not  _ from here _ .” He let out an uneasy laugh. “Not around here, not near here, I didn’t move from a different country, continent, I didn’t even come from a separate place.”

“Then where?” Gerard plead. “Gosh, tell me something!” He spoke in a harsh whisper as the class began to fill with more early comers. 

“Come with me after school and I’ll show you.” Frank needed to get closer to Gerard now. And he had realized this over the weekend, staring at hologrammed pictures of him.

“Why can’t you just tell me?” The first bell rang and Gerard flinched, momentarily forgetting he was at school. 

“It’ll be hard to explain. It’s better to just show you I think.” Frank said. He could see Gerard was annoyed, and he could understand why. “Please? We could go now if you’d like.”

“I can’t miss class.” He said, beginning to wring his hands. 

“You’ve never missed class.”

Gerard chewed on his lip for a moment. “Okay, let’s go right now.” He scooted away from the table and collected his things. 

-

Frank watched Gerard’s eyes dart around the notebook, from across the table, feeling a bit exposed. He read through the scribbled notes, the equations, stared at the doodles and graphs, trying to make sense of it all. A slightly shaking hand from him came down and lifted the coffee mug to his mouth. Frank felt guilty as he cut into a pancake, chewing slowly. Gerard’s breakfast sat in front of him, untouched.

“Eat your breakfast please, before it gets cold?” He tapped his hand. 

“I will, I will.” He didn’t pull his hand back and Frank felt something swirl in his head. “I am just trying to understand these notes, I don’t get it.”

“It’s a time machine.” Frank said. “Here, put it down and I’ll show you.” Gerard laid it on the table and Frank began pointing to the lists. “It was a machine meant to take me into space, but I messed up somewhere and went back in time.”

“You’re pulling a joke.” Gerard shook his head. He began picking at a dish of fruit. “Be serious with me, Frank.”

“I am. This is why I held back, I just need you to take what I say as truth. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I’ll show you the future soon.”

“The future?” He froze with a piece of strawberry in his mouth. “Is… is  _ this  _ the past to you? Are you saying you’re in the past right now?”

“Yeah,” He exhaled and nodded. “Yeah, this is the past for me.”

“ _ That _ explains why you’re so strange.” He smiled and began drinking his coffee again, playing along.

“I’m from 2183.” Frank said, closing the book. 

“Surely you’re just trying to get a rise out of me.” He began eating his breakfast despite the nervousness he felt in his stomach. 

“Look at me, Gerard.” He gripped his hand from across the table. “Look at me.” And he stared back into Gerard’s eyes. “Do I look like I’m doing this for just some sort of twisted joke?”

“You don’t.”

“I’m not, don’t you believe me?” 

“I want to. I really do, but you have to put yourself in my shoes. How do you expect me to just believe something so far fetched?”

“I get that. Just trust me? You’re my best friend. I… want to share this with you. I don’t know how else to convince you.” He chuckled nervously. “Could you just give it a chance?”

“Well- how do we get there? To the future?” He continued eating. 

“The cave, Gerard. That empty cave that no one goes it, that all the animals avoid. At the end of it, there’s a… a portal, I guess, to my year.”

“The cave?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re not lying to me?”

“I would never lie to you.”

“Fuck. Oh, dear.” Gerard chuckled nervously at his cursing. “I find it hard to believe you’re from two hundred years in the future. I think you’re just ashamed of where you came from.” 

“Well, you’ll see once we get there. Finish your fruit so we can go soon.”

-

“Here, in the cave.” Frank gestured towards the wide opening. “It’s not a long way inside, maybe five or six meters in and you’ll reach it.”

“What do you mean?” Gerard didn’t take a step closer to the dark opening.

“It's strange, I know, but you just have to trust me.” Frank took a step inside the dark.   
“Hm,” Gerard hummed, still hesitant.

“Look,” Frank stepped through. He waved his arms around and continued backwards. “See? I’m okay, follow me. Don’t you trust me?”

“I want to, Frank.” Gerard said, folding his hands behind his head in the agony of perturbation. “God, I want to so bad.” He said hushed, not meaning for Frank to hear.  

“Then follow me. I promise it’s safe. I’d never do anything to hurt you.” Frank stared into his eyes. “I promise.” Gerard opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came from his throat. Nothing but air passed through his parted lips as he stared dumbly into the darkness. “Follow me.” Frank said, dipping his head back in again.

And Gerard did, he felt a pull from his waist to go with him. Gerard jogged until he was by Frank’s side. Though he could feel Frank’s warmth next to him and sense how calm he was in the darkness, he felt overcome by panic and nervousness. Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed Frank’s hand. He stopped walking for a second and Gerard felt a pang of fear in his throat. Slowly, Frank closed his fingers and continued slowly. The end of the cave came to view and Gerard squinted at where Frank was staring. He thought a sliver of the rock looked darker than the rest of it. Without saying anything, Frank stepped through it and Gerard let go of his hand. And he was gone. 

“Frank?” he called out, suddenly feeling very afraid now that he was alone and Frank had been swallowed up by a cave. “Stop messing around!”

“I’m not!” Frank giggled, poking his head through the stretched black again. 

“How are you- it’s true, you-” Gerard lost his balance, feeling too much confusion at once. He fell onto the dirt ground and began to crawl away from him.. The realization only began to seep through the surface. His head hurt and he felt like running home and going to bed.

“Oh, god you don't look so good.” Frank leaned the top of his body through. He snagged his watch off the desk and leaned back through. 

“I don't feel so good.” Gerard flipped himself over so he was on all fours.

“Shit,” Frank came back to the past all the way, and he crouched next to Gerard, began rubbing his back. “Eros,” He said, strapping the watch on his wrist. “Blue aura, please.” Goosebumps rose on his arm that was exposed by his sweater sleeve being pushed up. “Oh, you’ve got goosebumps.” Frank rubbed his arm and pulled his sleeve back down. The watch had cast a blue light all around Frank’s body.

“N-no I don't.” Gerard gagged, sounding like he was really sick. “Just sick. What the fuck is that? Why are you-” He gagged again, his breakfast threatening to come up. 

“Let it out.” He continued rubbing his back.

Frank saw he was getting flustered even more, his nose turned a bright shade of red he could see in the dim light. He heaved violently, a gelled back peice of hair falling from its place and hanging on his forehead. Nothing came up through his mouth yet though. Frank sat on his legs and continued to rub his back. Finally, Gerard gagged again and puke fell from his mouth. His head had been thrown forward so violently, chunks of his hair came loose and fell around his head. Frank ran his fingers through it while Gerard sat back and put his face toward the sky. His eyes shut and mouth open, panting. He figured he might as well try to fix his hair before he started to moan about it later. 

“I should get back home, I’m sorry. I feel a bit…” Gerard mumbled.

“Fucked up.” Frank held a hand on his back still.

“That's it, yes.” Gerard stood up on wobbly legs. “I should lie down.”

“I’ll walk you home.” Frank helped him stand up. “Is that alright?”

“Yes, thank you very much. I’m afraid if I were to walk alone I’d pass out somewhere and get lost.” Gerard chuckled.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you home.” Frank began to walk with him until Gerard stopped, nearly ten feet from the cave entrance.

“Frank?” He sat on the ground.

“Mhm?” He sat with him.

“How’s the future like?” He laid on his back.

“Anything you want to know specifically about?” Frank looked at his soft skin illuminated by the watch’s aura casted around his body.

“Mm,” Gerard thought. “What is this light, first of all.”

“Oh,” He lifted his wrist up so Gerard could see the watch. “This is Eros, my watch.”

“Your watch makes this light around you?”

“It’s equipped with much more, the light is just a feature.” Frank said. “Go ahead, ask it something.”

“What do you mean  _ ask _ ?”

“Like a question.”

“Anything?”

“Yes, anything.”

“Eros…” Gerard hesitated. “What-what time is it?”

“I’m afraid I do not recognize your voice. I am not at will to respond to you.” The watch spoke. 

“My bad,” Frank said. “Eros, recognize this voice as Gerard and respond to him.”

“Yes, Frank.” The male voice spoke again.

“The time, Eros?” Gerard said, his voice weak. 

“Nine fifteen, Gerard.” Eros responded. 

He smiled softly. He shut his eyes and breathed in the cool air. Frank strategically scooted closer so they were laid shoulder to shoulder. Gerard felt a warmness cut though the breeze and touch his body softly. A calm energy had dripped over his body and he had began to feel his mouth curl at the ends slightly. He walked his fingers over the dirt and touched Frank’s hand. Frank laid his fingers over Gerard’s and closed them, holding his palm to the top of his hand. Gerard turned his head and breathed deep, the scent from Frank’s neck reaching his head and making him remember that Frank’s clothes were still in his bedroom. And Frank still had Gerard’s set of clothes. 

“Does Michael have a girlfriend?” Frank asked.

“No, why?”

“Just wondering. Thought I heard from someone that he did.” He decided mentioning the future would be a bad idea. He didn’t know if Gerard wanted to know the date his brother would be married. The air fell silent again.  

“I would like to go.” Gerard spoke after a long pause of silence.

“To… my time?” Frank tried to contain his enthusiasm.

“Yes, is it alright for me to visit?” Gerard asked, afraid he wasn’t actually invited.

“Yes!” Frank laughed. “Do you want to go now?”

“I do.” He stood up slowly. “I don’t want to go through alone though.” Gerard revealed with his head down.

“Oh, then here,” He held out his hand. “Just hold on, we can go through together.”

Gerard took it in a slightly shaky, damp palm and tried to hold down his smile. Frank led him into the dark sliver in the cave and waited until Geard was ready. His stomach was swarmed with butterflies and he eventually decided that they would never stop fluttering, so he might as well go. It was cold for the brief moment they were traveling. His skin rose in goosebumps and his jaw instinctively clenched against the cold. He shut his eyes and waited.

It was warm and smelled of paper- almost like a church. He opened his eyes and looked around the amazing room. The first thing he saw was the clock mounted on the wall with bright blue numbers shining through the screen. There was a sun in the corner and other small characters he tried to connect but couldn't. Sun was probably weather. The box half full, he didn't know. The lines shaped like a fan, totally alien to him. The speech bubble filled with another bubble with the number ‘6’ inside was meaningless to him. He stared at it and yelped when he heard noises coming from it. 

“Good morning, Frank. It is nine twenty eight. The weather is clear skies, with a current temperature of thirty eight fahrenheit. You have six e-mails to attend to.” The clock spoke.

“What was that?” Gerard gripped to the back of Frank’s sweater. “It said your name, talked to you!” 

“Hey, it’s alright.” Frank turned and held his hands on Gerard’s shoulders. “There’s a lot of technology here that is so much more advanced than you’d ever think. But none of it is dangerous or can hurt you. It's all helpful.” He turned away from Gerard. “Thaddeus, recognize this person as Gerard and respond to him.”

“Stand still, Gerard.” Thaddeus said. “I am scanning your face for recognition.” Gerard stood frozen, not daring to move. “State your name, just so I can hear your voice.”

“Gerard Arthur Way.” He spoke with surprising confidence. 

“Thank you. Recognition finished.” Thaddeus said. 

“Alright,” Gerard hesitantly began walking around Frank’s room, inspecting it. Some things looked familiar, but strangely different. The washing machines looked like the same idea, but were vastly different in a way. “How does this work?” He tugged the lid open out of its latch. 

“It’s our washing machine. You stick any dirty clothes up in that chute,” He pointed to a small rectangle shape in the wall with a handle on it. “On any day you want, I chose Saturdays, the machine sorts it all out and will wash it for you.”

“So you have to do nothing?” He asked, beginning to inspect the drier. 

“Well, you have to put it in the drier yourself. Newer models, you don’t have to.” Frank smiled to himself, watching Gerard sniff around everything like a curious dog. 

“What’s this?” Gerard had moved on the the screen mounted inside the wall. He laid his hand on the dark screen and felt the cool glass. He ran his hand over the part where wall and glass met, and there was no ridge or gap, it was one. “Is it part of the wall?”

“Yeah, mostly everyone gets it installed in the wall. It’s a television.” Frank said simply. 

“Oh, my. It’s grand.” Gerard breathed out, feeling nervous about everything surrounding him, finding it hard to believe this all would do what Frank said it would. “What is that?” He pointed to a black rectangle up in the corner of the wall. As he looked at the other three corners, he noticed they too had tiny, black rectangles. He felt scared. “What are those? Why are there so many?”

“It’s just a speaker, to play music.” He could see Gerard tensing up, his hand laid that laid on the dark TV was trembling. “Do you like music, Gerard?”

“Yes, I love music.” Gerard answered, his mouth hanging a bit open as he stared at the rectangle, expecting something to come out of it.

“Do you have a favorite song?” Frank asked, taking a step towards Gerard.

“Mm,” He hummed, thinking. Finally, he broke his gaze from the speaker and looked into Frank’s eyes. “I don’t have one. Do you have any you’d think I’d like?”

“I can’t say I do,” Frank laughed and pressed his finger to a smooth spot on the wall. The screen lit up and he began searching. 

“What is  _ that _ ?” Gerard neared, not afraid of it if Frank was holding it. 

“Oh- I keep my music on this. It’s ancient. I got it like six years ago, it has internet, the thing I told you about.”

“Oh, yes I remember.” His eyes fixed to the screen. “The internet, it can connect you to anyone, you said? That phone can allow you to speak to anyone?”

“Yes, as long as they have internet too.” Frank smiled.

“What is that, that you’re looking at?” Gerard looked at Frank scrolling through the bright white screen, a list of words and short sentences. 

“It’s a website. You can search for about anything and get an answer.” He said, clicking on a result for the song.

“Anything, huh?” Gerard chuckled. “Gosh, you must all be geniuses in the future.”

“Well…” Frank laughed, knowing most people were anything far from a genius. He pressed play on the song and set his phone down. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” Gerard breathed out at the sound surrounding them.

The song had filled the room in an instant, no beginning static of a playing the record. The sound was amazingly clear, her sweet voice dripped over them. Gerard felt his face contort into a wide smile, feeling woeful that the song was so short. He heard the end come near and a silence filled for a short moment, before it started up again. He began to laugh, amazed how the future had perfectly crafted the art of music and listening to it.

“Do you want to dance?” Frank held out his hand.

“You want to dance? With me?” Gerard took his hand hesitantly. “Like a woman and man would? Frank, if someone sees us…” Though he was afraid, he let Frank take him in a dance.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Frank chuckled. “It’s nothing like that here.” He picked up on what Gerard was saying. They swayed together and he laid his head in Gerard’s neck when the song had changed. 

“I’ve never heard this one. What is it?” Gerard asked. 

“This one is really popular, it's called dream a little dream of me.” Their dance hadn’t been interrupted. He could hear Gerard’s heart fluttering in his chest like a wounded bird.

“I like it, I do.” Gerard inhaled the scent of Frank’s hair pressed on his cheek. He pulled away quickly, releasing himself from Frank’s touch when someone called his name from the top of the stairs. A male voice had filled the room and he looked to Frank for an answer.

“That’s my mom, it’s alright.” He whispered to him though they were a good four feet apart now. “This is Dean Martin, it's a song called think about me.”

“I like this one too, a lot.” Gerard whispered back, trying to calm down. He could hear Frank yelling to his mom, having a conversation, but he couldn’t comprehend the words over his thoughts. How foolish of him to do that, almost be caught in the arms of another man. He felt his chest ache as he began to think about the abuse he’d suffer if anyone ever found out. Gerard took a few deep breaths, closing his stinging eyes and trying to get out of his own head. They hadn’t been caught, but he needed to be more careful was all. 

“Gerard…” Frank said softly. But he was staring at air with empty eyes. “Gerard?” His eyes flicked to his and they were full to the brim, threatening to spill. “Oh, alright, it’s alright, Gerard.” He led him to the desk and sat him in the chair, petting his hair and cooing to him. 

“Almost, oh god.” Gerard managed to whisper out, tossing his head to look at the ceiling. 

“Almost what?” Frank pulled his head back down with his thumb on Gerard’s chin. “Come on, Gerard. Focus on me, talk to me.”

“Two men… not allowed… ever.” His breathing had become hyperventilating and Frank had broken out in a panic now. Of course, he wasn't allowing his distress to slip up onto the surface.

“Hey, hey. Don’t let me lose you now.” Frank laid his hands on Gerard’s flushed cheeks. “Look at me. Breathe with me, alright.” He sucked in air through his nose and held it for a moment before letting it loose again. “Can you try it with me?” Gerard nodded, his tears finally falling onto Frank’s hands. 

“S’not okay. You’ll get hurt ‘cause of me.” He mumbled as he tried his best to follow along with Frank in breathing. 

“Gerard, don’t fight it, alright?” He tried to wing it and help Gerard through whatever was happening to him. “Breathe with me. In and out, yeah?”

“Yeah… in…. can breathe.” His eyes shut and he tried to regulate it. Time had slipped from him and he didn't know how long he was sat there breathing, but now he could feel his body calming. The tightness that clutched at his ribcage was released, his heart didn't feel so exerted anymore, and his lungs felt like they were getting enough air now. He hyperfocused on the feeling of Frank’s fingers pushing into his cheeks. His palms laid on his cheeks, trapping the wet tears that slipped through his fingers. 

“Hey, coming back to earth?” Frank joked, trying to lighten the mood now. Gerard was breathing normally and the tears had ceased to fall. His hands came up from his lap and gripped at Frank’s wrists. He could feel his pulse under his fingertips and it made everything clear. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its been forever and a day since ive updated but im back! i have a lot more material and im hoping to get the story moved quite a bit forward in the not so far away future. :-)


	5. Five.

Gerard sat on Frank’s bed, any earlier worries he had had of someone catching them together was not gone, but dramatically lessened. In the past two times he had come through and into the future, Frank had explained to him that it was normalized in society now. People of the same sex were allowed to get married, adopt, do anything a straight couple could, and a hate crime was rare if not eradicated. They had watched a movie called Brokeback Mountain. Frank had said it was very, very old, but one of his favorites. Gerard had loved the color and the sound, but more than that he loved the tragic, heartbreaking story. It had brought him to tears. 

Now he sat, Frank’s head laid on his shoulder and his hand laid in his lap, intertwined with Gerard’s fingers. He breathed steadily, the hot air from his nostrils came in small streams and puffed against the tender, sensitive skin of Gerard’s neck. More than once, goosebumps had been pulled up on his skin and he had shivered. He ran a hand through Frank’s hair, trying to keep the memory of how soft and easy it felt between his fingers. Frank shifted slightly and made a small noise as he woke up. Gerard hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep. 

“You’re still watching this?” He asked, blinking slowly as his eyes got used to the lights in the TV. But he could recognize I Love Lucy anywhere now. 

“It’s my favorite.”

“I know.” Frank scooted closer, pressing their torsos together. “Are you happy here? With me?”

“Yes, why?” Gerard broke his eyes from the screen and looked at Frank.

“I was just asking. I wanted to make sure you like me.”

“What do you mean  _ like  _ you?”

“I just meant… do you like being around me?

“Of course I do.” Gerard said, his eyes darting to the clock. It was four now. If he was going to get home on time he had to leave soon. “I have to leave soon, it’s almost sundown. Time still passes the same here, right?”

“It does.” Frank said, resting his head back on Gerard’s neck. 

“That’s too bad.” Gerard sighed, lying down. Frank dropped his head on Gerard’s chest. “I was hoping it could slow down.” He started to run his hand through Frank’s hair again.

“You’re gonna make me fall asleep of you keep doing that.” He mumbled against Gerard’s chest, his eyelids feeling heavy.

“You've already done that once. I like these cartoons.” Gerard said. Frank looked up at the screen. 

“The commercials?” He watched them. They were purposefully in a vintage style, the way animation used to look, drawn by hand, but not meant to look realistic.

“Yes, I think they look amazing. I love drawing, I want to make cartoons like this as a job.”

“You draw?”

“Oh, yes.” He nodded. “Very often, but I don’t mention it much.”

“You’ll have to show me sometime.” 

“I will.” He rested his head atop Frank’s and they held each other, watching the television. 

Gerard sighed, noticing the time on the clock had hit four forty five and the sun would be down in thirty-ish minutes. He laid there still, deciding his mom could file the police report and get the search team. They would never find him here.  

-

Frank had noticed the frog he had brought from past time into present was acting strangely. He watched the terrarium he kept him in. He was obviously in pain. Unhappy, depressed, and hurting. But Frank didn't know why. He had gone and bought everything he needed. He had made his large tank half water and half land, cleaning the water frequently enough. He sprayed his plants with water. Bought food after doing extensive research on what the damn frog would be happiest eating. And when the frog still looked sickly, he decided to take him to the veterinarian. 

On the subway ride there, a child had pointed a gloved finger to the clear plastic of the travel tank he had in his lap. He giggled at the frog’s eye closing as it blinked, strange to the toddler. Animals other than dogs and cats were uncommon in households. Most parents were too busy with working most hours during weekdays to care for animals on top of children. So they just didn't bother. But the curiosity of a child to animals never failed to lift Frank’s mood. 

“His name’s Charlie.” Frank told the angel eyed child. 

“Hello Charlie! I’m Edward. I’m seven.” He told the frog, poking his finger against the glass. “Could I pet him?” His mother was sitting with her eyes closed and arms crossed, presumably asleep. 

“If you want.” Frank said and watched the boy nod furiously. He opened the small plastic door and allowed the boy’s now bare hand inside to pet Charlie atop his head. 

“He’s nice.” He giggled, overwhelmed at the feeling of something new. “Charlie looks sad.” He began to pout, noticing the animal wasn’t moving much.

“Charlie is sick. He’s going to see a doctor now.” Frank reassured him.

“What’sa matter with him?” He said, his big brown eyes looking into Frank’s.

“I’m not sure, kiddo.” He sighed, allowing Edward to give a few more pats to Charlie before closing the plastic door. “Bad case of homesickness is my best guess.”

“Why don’t you take him home?” 

“You know what, Edward? I think I’ll do that. You’re a smart one.” He smiled at him, patting him on the head over his thick winter hat.

“Maybe he just needs to see his mom. That’s sometimes what happens to me.” 

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah, sometimes at my dad’s house I get sad. Then I see my mom and feel better. Maybe Charlie needs to see his mom.”

“I’ll make sure of that, Edward.” Frank said, feeling his heart get heavy listening to the kid talk about his split parents. 

“Does he like Berry Buttons?” Edward offered a handful of gummy snacks to the frog. “Mom says they are only for special snack time- but I can spare these.”

“I’m afraid not, Edward. Charlie likes to eat bugs.” Frank crinkled his nose in fake disgust. 

“ _Bugs_?!” Edward giggled, throwing his head back. “He’s a funny frog.”

“Bugs are for frogs, Berry Buttons are for boys, right?” Frank scratched at his head. “Is that right? I don’t know. Or maybe bugs are for boys and-”

“No!” Edward squealed, still laughing. “No, silly. Bugs are for  _ Charlie _ . Berry Buttons are for  _ Edward ...  _ a nd for you?”

“Hm,” Frank stared at the brightly colored snacks in his hand shaped like bundles of berries. “Alright, sure they are.” He smiled.

“Do you like blue?” He asked, looking into Frank’s eyes after studying the colors in his palm. 

“Are you kidding? Blue is my favorite!” He smiled, accepting the snack. He dropped it onto his tongue and faked euphoria over the artificial flavor. 

-

Frank slumped on the subway, the sad ride back home after the vet had said there was nothing wrong with Charlie felt ten times longer than before. She had suggested it looked like the passing from old age, but the frog didn’t  _ seem  _ to be old. He stared at the clear enclosure and studied the still frog, watching Charlie sleep. 

Frank slipped off the subway at his stop and walked home slowly. It was eleven at night and he usually felt unsafe walking along the street, but didn’t mind at this point. His mind was too tightly packed with thoughts of what could possibly be wrong with Charlie. The vet had said to try feeding him more and making sure the light around him wasn’t too bright. But Charlie always had leftover food and Frank had precisely set the light to a setting where the frog didn’t mind it. 

He picked up Charlie and put him back in his tank, watching him slowly hop over to a rock and lie on it, under the shade of a plant. Frank set a moth free in the tank, allowing it to flutter around and land near the closest and brightest light source. Charlie pointed his body towards the bug, but it didn’t seem he was able to muster up enough courage or will to let his tongue loose and catch the moth. Frank watched for minutes, Charlie positioned and repositioned himself many times. Opened his mouth a few times, but his tongue never stretched. He reached in and took one of the moth’s wings in between his fingers and held it close to Charlie. His tongue came out enough to grab the bug and he ate slowly. 

-

Frank had written everything down. Time and date of when Charlie got here, his species and their requirements, what had been happening to him, and an empty space for when he would return to his home time. He put the frog back into the travel container and hastily went through the black mass and jogged to the end of the cave. He winced at the sun, but kept going until he was a bit into the trees. He let the frog loose and watched him sit still for a minute before beginning to hop around again. He seemed stretch his arms and legs, shaking the sickness off. Charlie hopped around, looking already like he was a better, healthier frog. 

“Eros, collar please?” He asked his watch. It spit out a blue band that Frank carefully wrapped around his neck and clipped closed. He started walking down the trail, leaving Charlie to heal while he went to spend the day with Gerard.  

-

Frank stared at the frog lying still in its tank. He could sense it was close to dying and it freaked him out. He went over what happened when he let him loose in his own time. The collar had recorded Charlie’s vitals. His health had vastly approved all over. His happiness improved too. Now, back in Frank’s time, the collar had reported the frog was extremely sick and miserable. The problem obviously lied within the vast time difference. It didn't seem to be rapid aging, but it was possible that it was only happening on the inside, not bothering with the outsides. 

He picked him up carefully and softly pushed his hands through the black mass. He set Charlie down on the dirt and looked at his watch as it tracked his movement. At first, the frog moved slowly, then in a matter of minutes, he was hopping like normal. Though it was only one trial, the evidence pointed completely to the problem being that the frog was sick because it didn't belong in Frank’s time. It couldn't handle it. And he felt a prick in his eyes as he looked at Gerard asleep in his bed, remote in hand, one side his face lit by the television light. 

“Gerard?” He shook him lightly. “Gerard?”

“Hmm?” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, you okay?” He asked, mindlessly rubbing his hair. 

“Yeah, why?”

“I wanted to check your vitals.” Frank said, watching him sit up in the bed and stretch. “Just to make sure it's okay for you to be here.”

“What happened with the frog?” He pointed to the empty tank. 

“He got too sick. Had to let him go.”

“Am I going to get sick?” Gerard felt his heart drop into his stomach. “Is that why you need to check me?”

“No, well-” Frank sputtered. He couldn’t figure what to say. “You feel okay right now?”

“Uh huh.”

“Good, it was gradual in Charlie. But I do wanna keep track. Just in case it tries to sneak up on us. But I’m still not sure if it could happen to people.”

“Okay, that’s fine. What do you need to do?”

“Uh, pulse rate, body temperature, breathing, and blood pressure. It’s old fashioned but it’s easy and reliable.” Frank said and Gerard nodded, silently agreeing. “Eros, thermometer.” He said and the watch spit out a piece of paper. “Let this dissolve on your tongue?”

“Dissolve it?” He said, opening his mouth. Frank carefully set it down on his warm tongue. 

“Yeah, it’ll say on my watch.” He tapped the face of it. “Keep your mouth closed until it's gone. Eros, BR nasal.” The watch spit out a small silver ball with a thin string attached to it. “I’m gonna put this in your nose, alright? It won’t hurt. It’s gonna measure your breathing rate.” He put it in Gerard’s nostril and laid the string on his ear. 

“It’s gone. Sweet.” Gerard said. 

“Sweet?” Frank asked, chuckling. “Eros, BP and pulse reader.”

“Yeah, it tasted like a sugar cube.” He said as Frank wrapped a thin strap around his bicep and stuck a small sticky pad on the inside of his wrist. 

“Children usually get them, that’s why. Most adults just use watches or whatnot.”

“I’m like a child in this time.” Gerard laughed. “That’s hysterical.” He took a deep breath. “Say, Frank?” He said, lifting his head a bit so Frank could remove the silver ball from his nose easier. 

“Yeah?” He scribbled the results onto paper as the watch gave them to him. 

“You think we could go into the city sometime?”

“Sure, you wanna go after we finish this?”

“Well, sure!” Gerard said, staring at Frank work with glassy eyes. “How am I doing?” He asked, watching Frank’s careful hands as he removed the strap from his bicep and pad from his wrist. 

“Good news is that everything is normal.” He sighed in relief and dropped his hands on his thighs. “Let’s keep track of it, though.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He smiled, standing up and stretching his legs. He leaned down into the reflective black screen on the wall and fixed his hair. “Am I okay to go out like this?”

“Uh, would you want to blend in?”

“More than anything.”

“Want to borrow an outfit of mine then?”

“Sure, I do.”

“Go ahead and stand on the platform there.” Frank pointed to the white outline on the floor. And Gerard did. “Thaddeus, dress Gerard in something casual.”

“Yes, Frank.” She replied as the platformed raised six inches over the ground and began to dress him in Frank-chic clothes. 

-

“It seems empty.” Gerard said, looking at his surroundings with wide eyes. “I went to New York once and the subway there was  _ packed _ .”

“A lot of people are on tight work schedules. There’s only a ton of people on it at eight in the morning and five in the afternoon.” Frank said, laying his head on the cushioned headrest behind him. 

“Can I ask you kind of a foolish question?”

“What is it?” Frank said, his eyes flicking over to Gerard immediately. 

“Well, you said it’s okay for men to be… together here?”

“Uh huh.”

“So is it okay to, I guess, hold hands or something?”

“Are you saying you want to hold my hand?”

“No! I mean- Yes, if you want- if its okay.” Gerard’s face flushed red. 

“Yeah, it’s okay here.” Frank wriggled his fingers so they were connected with Gerard's. 

Gerard settled himself down for he had began to feel himself getting worked up with worry. The subway came to a stop and the doors hissed open as a pair of two older people climbed in. The sat in the seat row across from Frank and Gerard. He could hear the man talking to his wife in a hushed tone, but he couldn’t make out what he was saying. He thought to himself to relax, Frank had said it was normalized and he had nothing to worry about. But he couldn’t help it. He closed his eyes and laid his head on Frank’s shoulder. The scent of him did wonders to calm him down. 

“Excuse me?” The old man asked, his voice weak. 

“Yeah?” Frank said, looking up. Gerard also snapped his head up to watch.

“Do you happen to have the time?” He asked. “I’ve left my watch at home. I’d lose my head if it weren’t attached to my neck.” He said, his wife chuckling next to him. 

“It’s 7:46.” Frank said, looking at his watch. “Where are you two headed?”

“We’ve got reservations to this gorgeous Italian restaurant at eight.” The older woman said. “I’ve been waiting a whole month to get in. Is that where you two are headed.”

“No, we don’t have any reservations.” Frank laughed, squeezing Gerard’s hand. “We figured it would just be nice to finally get out of the house.”   
“Fresh air is always good.” The man said, smiling. “Your hairdo is very retro, kid.” He pointed to Gerard. “I was born in 1996, so I don’t know much about style that old.”

“1996?” Gerard said. “How old are you?” He leaned forward. 

“186.” He said. “But I feel not a day over forty.” he laughed heartily. 

“Really?” Gerard said, astonished. The man nodded. “Gosh, I never thought people could live so long.”

“It’s true.” Frank told him. "Rare, but true."

“There are folks older than us, dear.” The woman said. “You don’t get out much, I guess.” She joked. 

“Not here, I’m from… somewhere else.” Gerard found himself in the same position Frank had been in not too long before. “We usually don’t live past a hundred.” 

“Oh, that’s terrible.” She said. 

“Imagine if you took them everything we had. They’d live longer and you’d be a hero.” The man smiled, his eyes twinkling. 

“I sure would be, mister.” Gerard thought of it. “That’s a fantastic idea.”

“Hon, this is our stop.” The woman tugged at her husband’s jacket. “Nice talking to you boys! Goodnight.”

“You too. Goodnight.” Gerard smiled and waved as the other passengers left through the doors, leaving Frank and Gerard alone again. 

“See? No reason to be nervous.” Frank said.

“That was only one couple.” 

“Sure, that we spoke to. But what about the lady and her kid that were sat over on the other end. And the guy who was reading?”

“I guess you’re right. It did calm a lot of my nerves that they didn’t even blink twice at us.”

“Told you.” Frank smirked. 

“Where are we going?” Gerard asked, slouching further down into his seat. 

“I don’t know yet. Wherever you want to.”

-

The boys stepped out at their stop and made their way up to the surface streets. The bright, colored lights instantly caught Gerard’s attention. He looked around in awe. He saw small windows that gave previews of what the store sold inside. Frank walked up to one and pressed his finger to the window. The picture changed and he swiped, looking at what kinds of items were inside. Gerard pushed his own finger to it, grinning as he looked at glass cups. 

“All stores have these?”

“Yeah. You can log their code into your watch and place an order before you come in too. So if you’re in a hurry you don’t have to get it yourself.” He pointed to the barcode on the bottom of the screen. 

“Is that so?” He laughed. “That’s amazing. Let’s go in?”

“See something you like?” Frank asked, following him inside. 

“I might.” Gerard shrugged, going inside. 

They walked along the aisles. Gerard leaned down at small blue boxes on a collection of shelves. They had an array of combinations of models of clocks, watches, beds, sinks, and any other appliance you could name. There were parts of the machines in case something broke inside. Gerard wondered how anyone could figure how to fix their own clocks and watches since they were so advanced. He knew he definitely couldn’t. 

In another aisle there was boxes labeled  _ Food: Breakfast, Food: Lunch,  _ and  _ Food: Dinner _ . He leaned down and picked up one of the smaller boxes.  _ Instant Food. Perfect for snacks!  _ He turned it over and saw what looked like a chocolate bar. Why wouldn’t they just sell chocolate bars? On the higher shelves were what he assumed was food for children. Boxes with labels for extra brain support, athletic support, sickness prevention, and more alike. He left the food aisle, becoming uneasy at it.

“Hey!” A man who he assumed was the store clerk barked. “Are you two gonna buy something? Or are you just gonna try to steal from me?”

“We were just looking.” Gerard defended them. 

“Well look outside, pal. Guide’s there for a fuckin’ reason. Get outta here.” He said, nearing them. 

“We’re going! We’re going!” Frank yelled. “Don’t have anything but useless shit in your store anyway!” He said as they made it back out the door. He huffed brushing off his pants. 

“Is there any produce stores around here?” Gerard asked, mindlessly looking at the lights again. 

“Uh, I think there’s one across the street.” They started towards it.

Gerard swiped his finger along the screen and began looking through the store’s products. He had quickly gotten accustomed to using the technology of this time. There were real vegetables and fruits inside. Even meat, but the price was higher than he cared to spend. He saw candy, and even more of those food boxes. Under a kid’s section there were snacks, none of which had brain, athletic, or any kind of “support”. He took Frank by the hand and went inside, feeling a bit at ease by seeing the bright colors of real, actual food. 

“Hello! How are you boys?” A woman behind the counter asked.  

“Great, thank you.” Gerard smiled charmingly. “How are you, miss?” 

“Oh, lovely.” She said. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks, we will.” Gerard said. “I like this store.” He told Frank. 

“I’ve never been in here. You want something _real_ to eat, is that it? ” Frank said, taking a peach in his hand and lifting it to his nose to smell it. “I don’t blame you. This all looks good.”

“Yeah, we should get some, you think?” Gerard said, leaning over a pile of strawberry boxes. 

“I do.” Frank pulled a bag from a totem near him and began putting stuff he wanted inside, holding it out to Gerard every now and then. 

“Could we get candy?” Gerard asked, looking over shelves stocked with sweets. “Oh, look at those pastries.” He said, walking quickly over to the glass, a box of chocolates in his hand. “Excuse me, are these pastries fresh?” He asked the man behind the counter who was packing donuts into a box. 

“Hey.” He greeted him, leaving his counter. “Yes, they are. Every morning a new batch is prepared. Care for a few?”

“Sure!” Gerard looked back to Frank who was scanning his eyes over vegetables. “Could I get two?”

“‘Course.” The man packed two into a bag and handed them to Gerard. “Pay at the front, alright?”

“Perfect, thank you.” He smiled and walked back over to Frank. “I’m good to go, you’re still looking around?” He opened the bag and slid the pastries in.

“No,” He said as he stood back up from looking at a lower shelf. “Got some drinks too. But I’m good to go.” Frank wrapped his arm around Gerard’s waist and laid his hand on his hip. 

“That all?” The woman behind the counter asked as she put the bag under the counter so it could scan the items. 

“Yeah, thank you.” Frank said. 

“Total is $378.45” She said after a beep sounded. She handed the bag back to Frank and he scanned his watch on the small screen on his side of the counter. “Thanks, have a nice night boys.” She said as they left. 

“You too.” Gerard said. “Frank?” He asked once they were outside, walking on pavement again. “Why did that cost so much? It was only a few things.”

“It was actually really cheap.” He said, shrugging. “Real food is usually a lot more expensive.” He said, looking into the bag. 

“Oh.” Gerard sighed. “Could I pay you back? I feel guilty asking you to spend so much money on me.”

“Its nothing really, trust me. In your time things are so cheap to me, its unbelievable. Cultural difference.” Frank shrugged. “Don't sweat it.”

“I suppose.” Gerard said, still hesitant. “Do you have another place in mind?”

“One more, just around this corner.” Frank pulled him around and into a store. Gerard noticed there was no screen in the front. “Hey, Elwen. Remember me?” He asked the older man behind the counter. 

He stared at Frank for a moment, scratching at the white stubble on his chin that contrasted deeply above his dark skin. “Yeah! I do, I remember you. From the subway, Frank! I’ve been waitin’ on your ass to make an appearance.” He noticed Gerard, looking around with his mouth slightly agape. “Hey, son.”

“Oh, hello.” Gerard snapped his attention to the man. “Lovely store. Really beautiful flowers.”

“Thank you. Grow ‘em myself, yes I do. 'Course with the help of my wife.” He smiled proudly. “I’m Elwen. Who might you be?”

“Gerard.” He held his hand out to shake. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

“You sure are polite.” He said, shaking his hand. 

“Yeah, he’s from the ‘50’s. Brought him here myself.” Frank said, leaning down to inspect a bundle of small, pink flowers. 

“Is that so? Well, then welcome to the future.” He said, groaning as he lowered himself onto a cushioned barstool. “How you liking it so far, Gerard?”

“It’s something else, I can say that much. Everything’s so different, advanced. I can hardly understand anything that’s happening around me.” He began browsing the bright colors. “Your store is one thing that looks a bit familiar to me.”

“Ah, no browsing screen, huh? Get a lot of complaints about that.”

“I expected that much. Doesn’t it become such a bother to have to look through a guide before you can even go in any store. Frank and I were just kicked out of a store not too long before this for looking around inside.”

“I’ll be damned.”

“I knew it was gonna happen.” Frank laughed. “But Gerard looked too happy looking around.”

“Well, you boys are gonna be just ecstatic to hear that y’all are welcome to browse my store inside anytime you want. As long as we’re open.” Elwen said. 

“I like the sound of that.” Gerard said. His voice dwindled as he started to make his way closer to the opposite side of the store. 

“Frank, can I ask you a personal question?” Elwen leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter and his head on clasped hands. 

“Sure. Is this lavender?” He held up a purple plant.

“Yeah, that’s lavender.” Elwen nodded. “Are you and Gerard together?”

“Uh, I don’t know.” He shrugged, feeling his cheeks get hot.

“Sorry, it’s just you were asking me ‘bout love a while back. Then you come in with your arm ‘round someone.” He smiled, seeing Frank’s ears go red.

“Well, it’s not- I don’t know. Like I said, he’s from the ‘50’s, so it’s not really something he’s comfortable with, I guess.” Frank shrugged again. “I think calling him my boyfriend, and making it concrete would scare him too much.”

“He’s really from 1950? Who got time travel?” Elwen’s eyebrows pressed together. “I thought you were just joking around.” He looked back down at the counter and grumbled. 

“No, we weren’t joking.” Frank laughed, looking back at him. “1956 actually, is where I got him from. And I have time travel.”

“Well, how’d you work that out?”

“Had a portal project, messed up somewhere and ended up with time travel. Ling story short. You know how it goes, Elwen.”

“Can’t say I do.” He mumbled. “Well, in any case, what do you say Ambrosine and I get to take a trip to the ‘90’s?”

“No can do any time soon, Elwen.” He sighed. “It only goes to 1956. But the good news is that the time it goes to moves the same as time here. So in thirty years, give me a call.”

“Damn, oh well. I’m still impressed, and a little shocked to say the least.” He laughed uneasily. “We been waitin’ on time travel for as long as you can imagine and you made it on accident. Imagine that.”

“Yeah, imagine how shocked I was when I figured out what I did.” 

“Hey, Elwen?” Gerard skipped back to the front of the store. “Are these prices on the tags right?”

“Yes, they are.” He responded.

“Oh. It’s quite cheap compared to everything else.” He smiled. “I can actually pay for something here.”

“Hardly anyone buys flowers anyhow, so my prices are low. My wife and I just like to grow ‘em.”

“They are gorgeous.” Frank said, pulling a bouquet up to his face and sniffing it.

“So you really are from the past?” Elwen asked. 

“Yes, sir. I am. Came from 1956.” He stood awkwardly, two flower bouquets in his hands.

“Gosh, you must really be in a culture shock. I couldn’t imagine. How’s it feel to be the first person to time travel?”

“It feels like a dream.” Gerard said, walking over to the counter to set his flowers down to pay. 

“Quite the dream. This gonna be all for you?”

“Sure is, and yes, sir unless Frank is planning on getting something of his own.”

“Frank, you gonna buy anything or do I gotta kick you out my store with an iron toe?” He laughed, scanning the price tags on Gerard’s bouquets.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’. Peonies are my favorite.” He said as he set a bundle of them down on the counter.

“Y’all paying separate or together.”

“Together.” Gerard answered before Frank could. “I’ll be paying for all three, yes.”

“Very well. $66.04.” Elwen said, placing the flowers in a cloth bag, the interior built so the petals wouldn’t get crushed. Gerard handed him four twenties. 

“You can go ahead and keep the change.” He said, taking the bags.

“Well, thank you very much. That’s quite a bit of money where you come from.”

“Oh, it’s no sweat here, though.” Gerard smiled. “Take care, Elwen. Hope we see eachother again soon.”

“You too, get home safe boys.” He said as they left. 

-

“You know, I never gave fruit much thought. But under the moon here, with you, it’s becoming my favorite.” Frank said, lying on his stomach, facing Gerard who was sitting with his legs crossed over each other. His face turned up to the moon, a small smirk sitting on his face. 

“I never thought I’d like city noise so much, but something about all this ruckus tonight is just really… gorgeous. I could live in it.” He smiled, looking down at Frank who was sipping lemonade. 

“You can say that again.” His eyes fell over to the bags of flowers. “Why’d you get two bouquets?”

“Oh. I got an arrangement for my room. And I got one for my mom. Figured it could serve as a sort of apology for coming home so late recently.”

“I should apologize to her. I stole her firstborn.” Frank laughed lightly. 

“It was bound to happen. Baby birds have to be knocked out of the nest one way or another.” He smiled. “I just hope I can make her feel even a tiny but better with the flowers.”

“She’ll be happy with them. If I know anything about people before my time, they love flowers. And apologies are never complete without flowers.”

“Huh, I guess that’s somewhat true.” The city noise increased as a fire engine had gone down the street, its alarm blaring for blocks, silencing the boys. 

“I’m really glad we came to the roof here, Gerard.” Frank said, reaching out and touching his ankle under his dark pants.” Gerard didn’t pull away.

“How much time do you think we have up here?” He asked reaching down to grab a blood orange. “You know, before someone chases us away from here?”

“Is that what my time is to you?” Frank laughed. “Getting chased away?” He couldn’t help but smile wider at the sound of Gerard laughing too. 

“Well, anywhere we seem to go, someone is chasing us away. Except for the flower shop, I guess. How does anyone go anywhere?”

“Well, no one comes up here at night.” 

“How do you know?”

“I’m up here all the time. When I need to breathe I come up here and look over the city. No one has ever chased me away, or even noticed I was up here.” He watched the dark juice of the blood orange drip from Gerard’s lips and splash on the concrete. He sat up and crawled closer to him. 

“Then I’m glad we’ve come to this spot.” He slid closer to sit hip to hip with Frank. He pulled a carpel from his fruit and neared it to Frank’s mouth. Gerard watched amorously as he bit into it, closing his eyes. “I like spending time with you, you know.”

“Yeah?” Frank said, after he had swallowed the sweet orange. “There’s nothing else I’d rather be doing.”

“You can’t think of one thing?” Gerard asked, an intense feeling coming over him. It knocked any and all mean thoughts of loving Frank to the back, keeping them quiet for now. 

“What do you have in mind?” He parted his lips as Gerard held the rest of the red carpel to his mouth. Gerard opened a bottle of strawberry lemonade and began drinking it in small mouthfuls. One after the other. Until he had built up the courage to say what he wanted to. Frank continued to chew on another piece of the fruit.

“May I kiss you?” He asked, his face close to Frank’s.

Frank didn’t answer his question. He had heard it, registered it, and his mind had made up an answer for it, but the words wouldn’t leave his throat. He slowly reached out and laid his fingers on Gerard’s cheek. Gerard shuddered, closing his eyes and letting out a shaky sigh that sounded like his ribcage was made of windchimes. His breath that trembled through played the fluid clang. As if Frank was a storm that had just made contact with his delicate, wood carved insides.

Frank leaned in closer until their lips, swollen from the sweet food and drink were met and pressing softly together. Gerard leaned his hand against the side of Frank’s face, keeping him close. And Frank wrapped his arms around Gerard’s torso. Their tongues met after their lips had parted and their esurient mouths couldn't part, not now. The deep, rich sweetness of the blood orange mixed with the artificial sharpness of the strawberry lemonade soon became both of the boys’ favorite flavor. They found they had both longed for the specific taste, but only tonight, only now they had finally found it and satisfied their ravenous craving hunger. 

Gerard slowly wrapped his shaky fingers around Frank’s wrist, slightly tugging it away. Frank let him, and the warm, afterglow of getting what you so vehemently needed sat in the air between them for a moment. Gerard was scared, terrified, but he wouldn’t let go of Frank’s wrist. Wanted him to keep on touching him, needed his contact. He had been so scared, so afraid of it his whole life, but now, nothing felt more right. Nothing felt more natural than having Frank’s fingers pressing into the skin of his face. His eyes glimmering like far stars, staring right into him. The clear sound of his heartbeat when all had gone quiet, Gerard's soon echoing in his own chest. His lips…

“Are you alright?” Frank asked, unsure of what to do with his hand that Gerard still had in his grip. 

“Kiss me again.” 

And Frank did. He leaned in slowly, leaving a gap between them for a moment, giving Gerard a second to reflect. And he did reflect, thought about it. But didn’t care about anything but he, Frank, and the sugars resting on their tongues. He closed the gap, closing his lips around Frank’s warm, winter chapped bottom lip. The inside of his mouth was hot and he eagerly consumed the way his tongue tasted. Sweet like the first time he had truly smelled him, truly gotten close to his body. Nothing could top the feeling, Nothing could come close to the feeling of fog clearing the moment their mouths dared touch. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much to anyone who took the time to read. i cant say it enough :-)


	6. Six.

Frank walked in the middle of the Way brothers on their way to Ray’s house. Michael walked with purpose, chewing on a wad of pink bubblegum, blowing and popping the occasional bubble. Frank could smell the strong sweetness in the air and it made him want to kiss Gerard more than anything. He looked at Gerard with a side eye and looked at his neck. Imagined what it could look like with red and purple hickeys decorating it. At the least, what it would feel like to have his mouth on it. The pop of Michael’s gum bubble broke him from his trance. Gerard looked at him, smirking as if he knew. 

“Man, I wish someone had a car.” Mikey said, sighing. “Hate walkin’ in this freezing weather.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Any takers?” He said, holding out the package. 

“Me.” Gerard took one. 

“Me too.” Frank slid one out. He knew smoking was unhealthy, obviously. But what did it matter now? Everyone and their grandmothers in this decade had a lit cigarette in hand at all times. 

“Me three.” Michael took one for his own. He took a box of matches out of his pocket and struck one, holding it out to light Gerard’s. 

“Thanks, ankle biter.” He smiled and puffed. 

“Whenever you speak, Gerard, you take me to Cloud 9.” Michael shook his head, holding the match to the end of Frank’s cigarette. He looked at it curiously. Michael shook it dead before the flame could burn his fingertips. “I like using matches better. The sound and smell is great.”

“Ah,” He said, taking a puff. The tobacco smoke filled his lungs and it felt more familiar. He figured he could just schedule an appointment to get his lungs cleaned sometime. “When did you guys start smoking?”

“I started about a year ago, I guess.” Gerard said. 

“Couple months for me.” Michael answered, spitting the gum into its old wrapper. 

“Oh,” Frank took another deep drag. “Why couldn’t Ray meet us at your house?”

“He’s soupin’ up his car, you wouldn’t believe how fast he’s gonna get it.” Michael answered. 

“He’s doing what?” Frank asked. 

“Fixing it up- to make it go faster.” Gerard said. 

“Cool,” Frank felt his inner teen boy come out and he wanted to take a ride in the fast car. “You think I could get a ride in that car once he’s got it?”

“Sure. If you’re real nice to him maybe you guys’ll get jacketed too.” Michael said, batting his eyelashes. 

“Shut up.” Gerard reached behind Frank and slapped Mikey in the back of the head. “Don’t mind him, Frank. He can be such a wet rag sometimes.”

“It’s whatever.” Frank laughed it off. He really didn’t mind, actually liked being in on the jokes. 

“Yeah, Gerard. It’s  _ whatever. _ So cool it, _you're_ the wet rag.”

“You hungry, Mikes?” Gerard asked. 

“I could eat, why? What do you got in mind?” Michael looked over at him. 

“A big, strong, fresh knuckle sandwich with your name on it.” Gerard said, holding up his fist. 

“Oh, shut up.” Michael clicked his tongue in annoyance. 

“Michael, why don’t you drive?” Frank asked after a moment. 

“‘Cause I don’t need to. I have Ray and Gerard to drive me around.”

“What are you gonna do now that Gerard can’t drive you anymore that he got his privileges taken away?”

“Still have Ray.” Michael said. 

“Yeah, but if you drove couldn’t we just have gotten here in a car instead of freezing our asses off?”

“What, are you writing a book?” Michael said, getting a bit insecure. “Why don’t  _ you  _ drive?”

“No one drives where I come from.”

“Yeah,” Gerard chimed in. “Saw it with my own two eyes. They’re all like you, Mikes.”

“Maybe I oughta go live near Frank, then.” He joked. “There he is.” Michael pointed to a tall boy leaned over a car, head buried under the hood. He started to jog over to him. 

“You’re fitting in well here.” Gerard complemented Frank. 

“You think?”

“Yeah. Mike's being real friendly with you.” Gerard smiled, dropping his burned up cigarette onto the sidewalk, squishing it with the bottom of his shoe. “He likes you.”

“I like him too, he's really cool.” Frank said as his feet met Ray’s driveway.

“Hey, nosebleed!” Michael yelled, dipping his head under the hood. 

“Shit,” Ray stood up too quick and hit his head on the hood. “You scared me!”

“Make you piss yourself?” 

“You’re vulgar, Mikey.” He said, wiping his hands on a rag and closing his hood. “Hey! Frank, how you been, cat?” He said, closing his car up. 

“Good, man, thanks! How’s your car looking?”

“Aw, she’s coming along. Got some work to do, but it’s gonna be so cool when it's all done. Hey, Gerard, what’s going on.”

“Just hanging, man.” Gerard said, holding his hand out. Ray smacked his hand to his. 

“Nice, where are we headed?” He threw his tool bag into the garage and started to pull the door down.

“Food and the lake sound good?” Michael offered the group.

“Sounds good to me.” Ray said. “Frank, Gerard? You guys on board?”

“Cool.” Frank said. 

“Sign me up.” Gerard nodded.

-

The boys had decided to grab burgers, fries, and shakes and eat them by the water. Ray was desperate to put his feet in, and Michael wanted so bad to skip rocks. Frank and Gerard were happy to do anything at all as long as they could be together. Ray paid for the food and they took their paper bag with them as they walked into the forest, Frank and Gerard looking at each other knowingly as they passed an area close to the cave. Coming here and there in the forest so often, Frank had gained a knowledge of the area, a mini map formed in his head and he somehow knew where he was and how much longer it would take to get to the lake. 

“By the way, sorry I couldn’t just meet you guys at the house.” Ray said.

“Why’s that?” Frank said, out of the loop.

“I’m Mikey’s closet case.” Ray said proudly. 

“It’s true.” Michael laughed. 

“What’s a closet case?” Frank asked Gerard quietly, them being a couple feet behind Ray and Michael.

“It’s like he should be ashamed of being around Ray.” He answered quietly.

“Oh,” Frank said to Gerard. “Why is he?” He asked the boys in front of him. 

“Got caught with liquor. Caught a charge. Love fire. Ways' 'rents think I'm no good for their picture perfect children. Mikey's worse than me, just better at not getting caught, I guess.” Ray answered. “On the bright side, I  _ am _ , however, polite.”

“Perfect match for me.” Michael said. He looked behind him at Frank and Gerard. “He’s my best friend for a good reason.”

The boys reached the lake and Ray handed everyone their food from the bag. Michael handed out milkshakes. There was a rock circle, less than a meter in diameter and logs in the middle of it. Ray squatted down and took a minute to set fire to some twigs, then build it up so the fire burned the logs. Frank sat close to it. He had forgot his gloves at home and his fingers felt like they were going to fall off. They sat down and warmed up as they ate. Once Michael finished, he lit up another cigarette. 

“Give me your due backs.” Ray said, holding his hand out.

“Get your own, cube.” Michael said, easily. 

“C’mon, you know I don’t carry my smokes!”

“And that’s my fault?” He smirked. 

“Nosebleed.” Ray mumbled. 

“You know I’m just rattling your cage, man. Here.” He tossed a pack of cigarettes into his lap. 

“Thanks, cat.” Ray said, lighting a cigarette with an on-fire twig. “Anyone care for a dip?” Ray asked, pulling his shoes off. 

“You’re nuts, man.” Gerard said. “Your toes are gonna freeze and fall off.”

“Maybe so, but I didn’t come to the lake to mess around, I came to get my feet wet.”

“You’re like a duck.” Michael said, his shoes and socks off and hands in the process of rolling his pants up. 

“That’s the spirit.” Ray said, standing up and taking off towards the shore, Michael close behind.  

“They’re gonna freeze solid.” Gerard said, pulling a pack of cigarettes and a box of matches from the inside pocket of his coat.

“I’ve got Eros in my pocket. If they do then I can help. Don’t worry.” Frank smiled. He watched Gerard strike the match and light the end of his cigarette. He looked at Michael and Ray in the water. Michael was wading, knee deep while Ray was pulling the rest of his clothes off on the dock, ready to dive in headfirst. 

“Come here.” Gerard told him. Frank scooted closer. He took a deep inhale of the smoke and took Frank’s face with his hand. He instinctively opened his mouth and Gerard blew smoke in, Frank graciously receiving it into his own lungs. 

“Getting brave.” Frank teased, a small trace of smoke escaping his nose. 

“What’s the point if you can’t be?” He said, laying back on the ground and looking up at the trees. 

The words rang in Frank’s ears as he watched Ray and Michael splash each other in the water. Now both had removed their clothes and were swimming around. Nothing in his time made him feel what he was feeling now. He had never had a night out with a group of friends. Nothing better to do than anything their brains could come up with on a whim. He spoke to robots. Most of his company was robots. Which sounded cool to everyone from Gerard’s time, but to Frank, it now felt like a nightmare that he couldn’t bear to fall in again. Isolation was what Frank knew, but couldn't handle being subjected to ever again. Before he knew it, he was stood up, removing his clothes. 

“What are you doing?” Gerard asked, laughing. 

“Going swimming.” Frank looked at him, a smile plastered across his face. He ran to the water and down the dock, not stopping to hesitate before launching his body into the cold waters. Gerard followed him, watching from the dirt. 

“Hey! Frankie!” Ray yelled. Frank could hear his teeth chattering. “Mikes, Frank joined us!”

“Yes! This is a bash.” Michael’s teeth were chattering too. And soon enough, so were Frank’s. 

“You guys are crazy!” Gerard said to all of them.

“Come in, Gerard!” Frank yelled. “The water’s fine!”

“I can see Ray’s lips turning blue.” He pointed, eyebrows raised. 

“Ah, that’s nothing! Can’t even feel it.” Ray said. 

“You’re not going to come in?” Frank asked, managing to keep himself afloat. Swimming in cold water was ridiculously brutal. 

“Not a chance.” Gerard shook his head. 

“Ain’t that a bite?” Michael said half-sarcastically. 

“What are you Einsteins gonna do when you have to walk home in cold, soaked underwear?” 

“We’ll hang ‘em on that branch above the fire!” Ray said, floating on his back. “No way am I walking home with a frozen dick.”

“You got that right.” Michael said. 

“Hey, Gerard?” Frank called, swimming back to the end of the dock. Gerard walked to the end of the dock and sat down. “Can you give me a smoke?” 

“‘Course, Frank.” He stuck a cigarette between his lips and struck a match. Frank grabbed his wrist while he was shaking the fire out and tugged slightly. “Oh, fuck off!” Gerard yelled. He yanked his body back with such force he ended up lying on his back. 

“Sorry, sorry!” Frank laughed. “I was just kidding!” 

“Drag him in!” Ray yelled with his hands cupped around his mouth. "Grab his ankles!"

“Lets see you go for a swim, Big Daddy!” Michael yelled, trying to coax him in. 

“Fine, alright!” Gerard yelled, pulling his clothes off and leaving them in a pile on the dock. The boys cheered and Gerard bowed before jumping into the water feet first. “Fuck, that's  _ cold _ !” He screamed as his head broke the surface. 

“What did ya expect?” Ray splashed him in the face. 

“Have some of this, it'll help.” Frank offered his cigarette over. 

“You're right, thanks.” Gerard took it gratefully. 

“What, no puff for me?” Michael faked being upset. 

“None for you here, ankle biter.” Gerard said. 

“Ah, drop dead twice.” 

“What, and look like you?” Gerard laughed, handing the cigarette back over. 

The boys swam in circles and joked with each other to no end. Ray and Michael tried to out swim each other, seeing who could go the fastest. Michael won, then he challenged Frank. Frank won, then Ray challenged him. Needless to say, the years of being taught to swim and athletic enhancement snacks paid of. And Frank was the faster swimmer every time. Ray dunked Michael and Frank underwater a couple times. Every time Frank's head was put underwater he felt like his eyes and cheeks were going to freeze solid. He'd come up through the surface fast and grab Ray's head. But he was too strong to be pulled under. Gerard swam away from him too fast to be caught. And Ray pledged that one day he would get Gerard. 

“Hey, are my lips blue?” Frank asked the three. 

“Uh… getting there.” Michael answered. “Are mine?”

“Yeah, and yours.” He nodded to Ray. “You too, Gerard.”

“Call it a day then, cats?” Ray suggested, already swimming to the dock. 

“Sounds good.” Gerard answered. The whole group pulled themselves up onto the dock and back over to the fire. 

“Alright, hand over the panties.” Michael joked, taking off his own underwear. Ray and Gerard handed their over easily. Frank had a twinge of hesitation, but got over it quickly. Michael slung the pairs over a branch above the fire. 

“I can't wait, I'm freezing.” Ray complained after a minute of shivering. “Goin’ commando!” He declared, pulling his pants on. 

“Me too.” Gerard said, already buttoning his pants. 

“Me three.” Frank said. 

“Wimps.” Michael said, teeth chattering. “Me four. Ass to denim.” He pulled his clothes on, sitting closer to the fire. 

-

Frank poked around at the time machine while Gerard sneezed and blew his nose desultorily. He laid on his back on the floor, headset over his eyes as he drew pictures into the air. Of course only he was able to see them until he had decided they were good enough to share. It had taken him a day and a half to get used to the equipment enough to use it proficiently. He was focusing hard on drawing a leaf as realistically as he could. 

The time machine was running low on something, Frank figured that much. He knew it wasn’t low enough to power off any time soon, but it was still nerve wracking. It was even harder to concentrate now that he was thinking about how three of his friends had caught colds and he was the odd man out. Michael said he had a ‘fuckin’ super-human immune system’ and that Frank was ‘indestructible’. But it was just all the vitamins and vaccines, he supposed. 

“Gerard?”

“Huh?” He pulled the thin, metal strip off his eyes and looked at Frank. 

“Does it hurt your body when you’re here for too long?”   


“If I say yes will I still be able to come here?” He laid back down, continuing with his virtual painting. 

“I don’t think I could stop you anyway.”

“Then yes. But it’s not major. Just a little cramp, headache, or sickness. It only lasts a short time. Doesn't bother me all that much.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” Frank thought for a moment. “Your vitals have been normal every time though.”

“I know. It doesn’t matter, it goes away before I’m even halfway home.” Gerard said easily. “Does it hurt you to go to my time?”

“It doesn’t hurt, it just drains me of all my energy.” Frank sighed. 

“You’ve never mentioned anything like that.” Gerard said. “Clue me on that, would you?”

“It just makes me exhausted if I spend too long there. Like if I sleep all night and I’m perfectly well rested, I could spend nine hours there and come back absolutely worn. I’ll sleep for about ten or twelve hours and I’ll snap right back.”

“Huh, that’s somethin’. Do you take your own vitals too?”

“I do. They’re always normal.”

“No harm no foul.” Gerard said. “At least no permanent harm.”

“Not as far as I can see.” Frank said, pushing into an acid release button, increasing the power insignificantly. "Maybe a hydrogen increase would help." He mumbled to himself, counting how much he'd need. 

“Any luck so far?”

“Nuh-uh.” Frank sighed. “Any ideas? Yours are as good as mine.”

“Sure." He thought fir a moment of all the parts. "Do you have magnets in there?”

“Yeah.”

“Do they get really hot or cold? Extremely hot or cold?”

“Sure, they could.”

“Did you check if they’d worn down any?”

“I don’t think it could’ve gotten that high or low in temperature. But I’ll check.” Frank carefully looked into the port with the magnets. “They look good.”

“How are those back time coils?” Gerard had became quite familiar with how the machine worked by listening to Frank talk to himself about it while he worked and looking at his blueprints. “I remember they weren’t looking so good a week or two ago.”

“Hey, actually this one looks like it's about to split.” Frank touched it with a gloved hand. One part of the coil looked thinner than the rest. 

“Need help replacing it?”

“No, it’s a quick fix. I’ll get it done in five minutes tops.” Frank had already began digging through a scrap drawer looking for a pack of coils.

“Okay, what do you want to do after?”

“Are you in the mood to go out?” Frank asked, grunting as he squeezed himself in the small space between the wall and the machine frame. “Or would you rather stay in?”

“Kind of want to go out for a bit. But somewhere secluded and quiet.”

“ _ Ouch _ .” Frank hissed, accidentally burning his free hand with a hot coil as he carefully removed it. “Sounds good, wanna get some food from that place we went last time and go back to the roof?”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking. After that could we come back here and watch a film or two?”

“Sure, what time do you have to be home?”

“Around eight. Seven if I wanna make it to dinner.”

“That’s right I forgot it was Wednesday.” Frank carefully inserted the new coil. He stood in front of the machine again, new coil inside. The power meter had steadily began to climb. “I think that coil was the problem.”

“Is it fixed?”

“It’s retaining more power. But it’s not where it usually is. Just about a third a notch underneath.” Frank tapped against the glass. “Oh, well. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Sure it will, you ready to get out of here?”

-

Frank pressed his lips quick to Gerard’s then back and looked at his face. Nose and cheeks red from the cold he’d caught from swimming in the cold water. Eyes shut, eyelashes sitting on his soft skin like snowflakes on leaves. Then he quickly pressed his lips back to his again, like a hummingbird going back for more nectar. Gerard smiled, baring his teeth, which Frank promptly pressed his pursed lips to. 

“I really have got to run, Frank.”

“Can’t you stay? Just a bit longer.” He begged, running his hands through his gelled hair. “Please?”

“I can’t. Mom’ll be furious. I’ve come home late too many times!” He smiled, knowing how childish it must’ve sounded to turn down more time with your partner because of some curfew. “I’ve lost my television privileges.”

“Oh, shit. You did?” He felt a pang of embarrassment in his face. And guilt in his chest. “God, Gerard, I’m sorry. I know how much that meant to you. Could I talk to her maybe? Tell her you were… I don’t know… tutoring me?”

“I watch enough films with you, it’s okay. But tutoring? Well, you’re quite more smart than me, Frank.” He scoffed.

“She doesn’t know what I’m good at. Anyway, you’re better at poetry and things like that than me. I can never understand what those long ass drawn out metaphors mean.” He sighed, touching his warm cheek. “But you get it.”

“I don’t know…” Gerard said, getting slightly nervous. “I fear she’s beginning to get suspicious.”

“Of us?” 

“Yeah. She looks… almost sickly when she asks me where I’ve been. I never give her a straight answer. She got off my back about it a few weeks ago. I think she figured it out.” Gerard looked at his lap. Though he himself had overcame the internal nervousness and guilt he felt, but he couldn’t overcome his whole society's prejudices. 

“I’ll tell her I have a girlfriend.” Frank pleaded with his eyes, an earnest cry floated through his voice. He watched Gerard lay on the bed, arm behind his head. Frank joined him by his side. 

“It’ll be too obvious.” He looked back at him, his face calm. But an underlying anxiety sat deep in the green of his eyes. “I’m not even sure if she knows about  _ us  _ or if she thinks I’m just getting into bad things. Like Michael and Ray do.” He laughed once. “I’m pretty sure Michael knows.”

“He does?”

“Oh, yeah. It used to be when I came in late at night he’d make a ruckus and  _ make sure  _ I was caught coming in. You know how brothers are. Oh- well I guess you don’t.” Gerard laughed. 

“Shut up.” Frank pushed him softly. “I can imagine. I’ve spent so much time with Michael- too much time. I think I know him fairly well.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Gerard nodded. “Anyway, he doesn’t do that anymore. He even covers for me sometimes. The other night- when we went swimming- he told Mom I was out with Ray. Helping him find his dog that ran away.”

“I thought his dog ran away in the seventh grade.” Frank recalled the memory of Ray's beloved dog, Chet. 

“It did.” Gerard sputtered a bit, holding back laughter. Frank burst out laughing. 

“That is- she bought it?!”

“I guess so. I came home and she asked me if we had found the dog.”

“Oh, God.” Frank tried to catch his breath. 

“He unlocks my window for me. The front door too. He sometimes waits for me, sleeps on the couch until I come in. It was a joke at first to him. Me being out so late and no one knew where I was. No one could find me. But now he takes it serious, he’s… compassionate. Doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t look upset. Just helps me.”

“We’re gonna be okay, you know.”

“Yes, I know.” Gerard pecked him on the nose. “I know.” He stood from the bed and took long strides across the room, standing in front of the portal. He stopped and looked at the mess on Frank’s desk. “Do you mind if I take this?” He held up a graphic t-shirt Frank had acquired at a concert he’d gone to nearly a year ago. 

“My Terminally Homesick shirt?” 

“Yes. I like this one. And I like their music.” 

“Go ahead. Be safe, I love you.” 

“Thanks, Frank."

"You going to school tomorrow?" Frank asked. 

"If I feel up to it. I might." Gerard shrugged. "Are you ever going to come back to school?"

"I'd rather stick hot pins in my eyes." Frank smirked. "But you need school! Don't blow off education for me. Even though you love me so." He batted his eyelashes. 

"Oh, don't flatter yourself." Gerard scoffed. 

"I don't have to. You do it for me." He smiled, looking at him standing there. "Go so you can go to school!:

"I’ll see you tomorrow?” He folded the shirt and put it in the inside pocket of his coat.

“Sure thing. My place or yours?”

“Mm,” Gerard hummed, thinking. “My place. You should talk to my mom before she takes my walking privileges away too.”

“Sure thing. How’s ten?”

“Perfect. See you then. I love you.” Gerard slipped through the black, stumbling a bit and holding his groans in until he was further away from Frank. 

He held a hand to his chest, pushing his fingers into his skin and rubbing. Hoping it would help the aching he could feel coming from each beat of his heart. He figured he was now like the frog. Frank had said it could be gradual, but Gerard didn’t listen. Didn’t care. The sharp aches and pains fogged in comparison to the pleasure he felt just being around Frank. And if he dared tell him about how bad it really was, no doubt he would stop letting him come through. He couldn't leave over some temporary inconvenience. Frank’s time was better than his own. They could hold hands and kiss on the lips in public and no one batted an eye. 

He stumbled to the edge of the forest and held onto a branch. The sun had gone down hours ago and he cursed himself, the sharp pain of fear meeting the ache in his chest. What if his mother had spoken to his father and he had taken up waiting in the living room. His cold eyes were relentless and unemotional. He wouldn't stop until he got an answer. And once he did, Gerard would be kicked out, exonerated from any familial titles. He knew it, and wouldn't dare risk it. 

In his head he went over his story. He had gone to tutor Frank. It was his night plans every few days. A raindrop smacked him in the eye and he lost his story to the rain. The sprinkling turned into walls of water in the span of a few minutes and Gerard stayed put. Did not think moving was possible until he knew the in, outs, left, and rights of his story. Tutoring Frank in poetry, had dinner with his parents- well no, what if Mom wanted to call Mrs. Iero? Had dinner with Frank’s grandparents, who didn’t own a phone. Ended up staying for a slice of cake. It was his grandfather’s sixty-something birthday- number didn't matter much. It would’ve been rude to leave. That’s it. 

His feet began to move at normal pace again. His chest aching had subsided, and his headache had passed. He no longer felt nauseous, but the urge to vomit on the side of the road was still sitting like a fat frog in his throat. He looked at his watch. The sickness had passed in a grand total of twelve minutes. It was taking longer, he knew that. In the few times he had felt it. But it was getting longer to get over each time and that scared him. Scared him so much he cried until he reached his driveway. 

When he saw a silhouette on the porch he stopped his tears, hoping they’d blend with the rain. An icicle had hit him in the chest, but it soon melted when he realized it was Michael standing on the porch, wrapped in a thick blanket, squinting to look at Gerard. 

“Well? Whataya waiting for? The cold to catch you first?” He said, urging him inside. “Take your shoes off and leave ‘em here. Take off your clothes at the door unless you wanna dry the floors. I’ll get you a towel.”

“Drying the floor’s the last thing I want to do.” Gerard said, pulling his shoes off. He watched Michael open the front door, squeezing the middle hinge so it didn’t squeak. Gerard following him in, taking off his coat, unbuttoning his shirt, and pants. Kicking everything off so he was only stood in his underwear. “Anyone awake?” He asked, taking the towel. 

“Just me.”  He watched him dry his face and hair first, sipping now cold, hot chocolate from a mug. “Waited up for you. It’s nearly three.”

“I know. I got caught up.” Gerard mindlessly spit out. “Actually no I didn’t.” Michael handed him the blanket after he had finished folding his wet clothes. “I was spending time with Frank. I wasn’t caught up at all. I wanted to be there, chose to be.”

“I figured.” He said, turning to sit on the couch in front of the silent television. 

“How do you mean.”

“I know, Gerard, alright?”

“You know?”

“Yeah, I know.” He shrugged. “I don’t care that you’re building a home or whatever you’re doing with him. I like him, but I just want you to be more careful. Mom’s getting suspicious.”

“Ugh, I know. I was just telling Frank that.” He said, rubbing his face. “She doesn’t know about us?” He felt his heart take a step back from the ledge. 

“Nah, she’s more scared you’re out with Ray stealing liquor and selling heroin.” He chuckled, trying to light a cigarette that hung from his lips with an empty lighter. 

“Gross. Rather buy marijuana and just steal liquor from Dad’s stupid cabinet. He’s drunk so much I doubt he’d even notice.” He sighed, settling down. “Could I have one?”

“Uh-huh.” Michael nodded, giving up on getting the flame to come out and light his cigarette. “Worthless fucking thing.” He leaned down, pulling a box of matches from Gerard’s coat pocket. “You know you’re real smart dipping these things in wax.” Michael said peeling the wax off a match. “These would’a been ruined in that rain.” 

“Good thing they’re not. I really need a fuckin’ smoke.” He took a cigarette from Michael’s hand, holding it between his fingers waiting for him to strike the match. 

“How’d ya think of something like that? You’re a quick thinker.” He held the match’s flame to his cigarette, then quickly to Gerard’s. He shook the flame dead, flapping his wrist. 

“Not a long term thinker, though. I tell too many lies.” He said, taking a long drag. "Suppose it keeps my memory sharp."

“There’s two of us for a reason.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.” He let a cloud of smoke out of his nose and float around their heads. “Brains and brawn. Guess who’s who.”

“Wouldn’t be hard.” Gerard joked. “You’re kinda brainy.” He pushed his head.

“I only look brainy.” He shrugged. “Like to think I am tough though.” He said proudly. 

“You’ve got that much true.” 

The boys resumed to smoking their cigarettes in silence, watching the moving pictures on the TV. The black and white felt like home to Gerard, but the clear and color felt like something new and irresistible. 

“What are you and Frank going to do about your situation?” Michael broke the silence. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well our folks would have a heart attack or two if they figured you two were shacking up together. Do his folks care or what?”

“Ah, no way.” Gerard smacked his lips. “He’s two hundred years in the future, Mikes.”

“I know that feeling.” He smirked. “He’s got ya hooked. How’s things between you guys anyways?”

“Got a heavy heart, feel sick to my stomach when I leave him.” Gerard explained his physical pains, but Michael took it as another metaphor. 

“ _ Hooked _ !” He said loudly.

“Don’t talk about it so loud here. They could be listening.” He nodded his head in the direction of the staircase to signal he was talking about his sleeping parents.

“Can’t you hear Dad snoring like a bear in fuckin' December up there?” Michael laughed out loud. Too loud. “Mom couldn’t hear the thunder outside if she put her fist in his mouth.”

“Guess you’re right.” Gerard sighed, pushing the butt of his cigarette out in the ashtray next to Michael. 

“Another?”

“Sure, why not?” He took another and held it in his mouth, waiting for the match to come to him. 

“What’s that red thing in there?” He asked as he pulled the wax from the match stick.

“A t-shirt. Frank’s. It’s some band he likes, I like them too.” 

“Oh. Well you better hide it or figure what to tell Mom when she finds it.” He held the match to Gerard’s cigarette. “She’s looking for the slightest thing to tip her off. She can't find an answer so she's gonna make one of her own.” He shook it out.

“How could she ever know its his. I’ll just tell her I bought it from some store. Thought James Dean looked cool in t-shirts. Wanted to try one out myself.” 

“Gee, you got a story for everything, don’t ya?” He laughed.

“Can’t get caught off guard when you’re a liar.”

“You got that right.”

“Mikes?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank’s for covering for me. And not being a jerk about it. You could really destroy me knowing something like this.”

“I’d never. I’m your brother. The brawn to your brains. Secret’s safe with me.” He patted his shoulder and the boys sank deeper into the couch, staring at the television screen.


	7. Seven.

“Where'd you go last night?” Gerard's mother asked as soon as he had reached the bottom of the stairs. 

“Frank’s house. Tutoring him.” 

“Why were you there so late? Your father and I went to bed around nine and you still weren't home.” 

“I know, Mom and I'm sorry. His grandparents invited me over for dinner. I couldn't say no, it was his grandfather’s 61st birthday.” 

“That's your story?” 

“It's not a story, mom.” Gerard said, shaking his head. He felt his body become hot. 

“Why don't I just call them then?”

“Sure, if they had a phone.” He turned to the cabinet as he slowly poured a bowl of cereal. Not daring to look her in the eyes. 

“Huh, alright. Why don't they come over for dinner then? You could go back to Frank's home and invite them over.” 

“Fine. When?” 

“Tomorrow.” 

“Works for me. I'll go ask now.” 

“Very well.” She said, not believing a word that came out of his mouth. Rightfully so. 

He left his dry bowl of cereal on the counter and went back upstairs to fix his hair. He knew Frank didn't have any grandparents, what were they going to do? Maybe he could make an excuse. But he knew mom would only keep pressing. She wouldn't stop until she was proven wrong. They'd have to figure something out or else Gerard would be in a world of shit. 

He went back to his room. Folded Frank’s shirt. Put it in his drawer. Took a clean pair of socks. Made his bed. Opened his curtains. Swept his floor. Put the wet towel from his shower in the hamper. And finally put his shoes on. He quickly left his room, wanting to get out of the house as soon as possible. He still couldn't look his mother in the eyes as he escaped. Thankful his father was still lying in bed. He moved so quickly that by the time he was halfway down the driveway he heard the front door shut behind him. 

“Where you headed, speed racer?” Michael said, sitting on the front lawn smoking a cigarette. 

“Uh, Frank’s. Mom wants his fucking grandparents over for dinner.” 

“You look rattled.” 

“Yeah. He doesn't have grandparents.” He rubbed roughly at his face. “I should've just said we saw a movie or something. God, all my lies are piling up.” He flopped down onto the grass next to Michael. 

“Want a cigarette?” 

“Yes. But I'm too apathetic to light it.”

“I'll do it for you then.” He said. He held a cigarette in his fingers as he lit it, then stuck it in Gerard's fingers. 

“Thanks, Mikes.” He lifted it to his mouth. “What time is it?” 

“Uh,” he looked at the face of his watch. “Almost seven.” 

“Frank won't be awake anyway.” He settled into the grass. “Might as well calm down. What are you doing out here anyway?” 

“Waiting.” 

“For what?” 

“Something to do, I guess. Don't wanna be around when Dad wakes up.” He shrugged, sighing. “Dad got drunk off his ass last night. Lucky you weren't there. He was pretty pissed off. Throwing shit and yelling.”

“What was he so mad about?” 

“Don't know. You, I guess. Said you were never home and were probably a criminal now.” He laughed. “Can't imagine what'd happen if he found out you were out kissing boys.” 

“Kissing  _ a  _ boy.” Gerard corrected. “He'd probably have a fucking aneurism.” 

“Wouldn't that be a blessing.” Michael laughed again. “Hey, maybe you and Frank can let the secret out and put Dad out of his misery at this supposed dinner.” 

“Ah, drop dead twice, ankle biter.”

“What, and look like you?” Michael mumbled, halfheartedly. “What are you gonna do anyway?” 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, are you just gonna hide it forever?” 

“I couldn't.” 

“What are you going to tell Mom when you two start living together?  _ Oh, I just have to tutor him all the time, Ma. _ ” He mocked Gerard's voice. 

“I don't sound like that.” He laughed, nudging him with his shoe. “I don't know. Maybe I  _ will _ just tell them at dinner and get it out of the way.” 

“I’d wait 'till I had a place to live.”

“Yeah, that's probably smarter.” He sighed. “Anyway, what's Ray doing today? Maybe I could hang with him until Frank wakes up.”

“That's what I'm waiting for. Ray doesn't wake up until around ten, usually.” 

“So what do we do?” 

“We could go skip rocks.”

“Okay.” He stood up and dusted off his pants. 

“Could I go? With you?” 

“I thought you were?” 

“To the lake, yeah. But I meant to Frank’s house.” 

“Oh. I don't know.” Gerard said. “I'd have to ask him.” 

“He's private that way?”

“No, it's just a whole thing to get there. Really hard to explain.” 

“Could you try?” 

“I told you last night. He's 200 years in the future.” 

“Very funny.” 

“I meant it. He's a time traveler." Gerard sighed, not having the energy to convince him. " Look, when we're at the lake I'll go get him and he can tell you himself.”

“Fine.” Michael huffed. “Let's go skip some fucking rocks.”

-

“Frank?” Gerard stepped into his room. It was half past eight now and he couldn't wait any longer. “Frank, wake up!” He stood by the bed and shook him by the shoulder. 

“I'm up, I'm up.” He mumbled, propping himself up on his elbows. “What are you doing here?” He said roughly, trying to get his mouth used to talking so quickly after waking up. 

“I gotta talk to you about my mom. We're safe for now, but she needs something from you.” 

“Okay, nice. Whatever it is, I can do it, Gerard.” 

“Fantastic. Anyway, Mikey’s down at the lake waiting for us. For  _ you _ , more accurately.”

“Me?” He stood up from the bed and stretched. “What does he want me for?” 

“He wants to know if he can come over. To your house. I told him he'd have to ask you. But I didn't know how to explain it.” 

“Did you tell him anything yet?” 

“Uh… no. Well- yes.” Gerard watched as Frank pulled his t-shirt off his body and trudged over to the bathroom screen to prepare a shower. 

“Lemon scent or lavender scent?” Frank asked. “What kind of day do you think it is?” 

“Lemon, definitely.” 

“What'd you tell Michael?” Frank yawned. 

“I said you were 200 years in the future, that you're a time traveler.” 

“I'm guessing he didn't buy it.” 

“No,” Gerard laughed. “Of course he didn't. It's ridiculous. But, I just wanted you to know I put that idea in his head… in case you wanna tell him.”

“Tell him?” 

“Yeah, he's my brother and all. Figured it would be the right thing to do.” 

“I could see that.” Frank said. “Tell you what, give me like 20 minutes to shower and clean the place up? I'll run down to the lake after.” 

“I could clean up if you want? I just have Mikey waiting for us.” 

“Alright, mess is yours.” Frank smiled as he left hastily to shower.

-

“I can't blame you for not believing me, Michael. Gerard wouldn't until he saw it for himself.” Frank said, skipping a rock in the water. 

“It’s far out there.” Michael agreed. “But if Gerard says it's true…”

“It is, Mikes.” He said, his voice slightly muffled from laying on his stomach on the dock, head supported by one arm and the other running through the freezing water. “I thought Frank was playing a trick on me until he had showed me.”

“I could show you my watch?”

“Your watch?” Michael asked. 

“Yeah, from my time.” He pulled it from his pocket and tightened it around his wrist. “You cold, Mikey?”

“Freezing my ass off, man.”

“Eros, warm aura.”

“Yes, Frank.” The voice answered before allowing Frank to emit warmth like a portable heater.

“What the  _ fuck _ , Frank?” Michael took a couple steps back. Frank grabbed him by the arm to keep him from falling off the dock. “God, that’s fucking warm.”

“Are you alright?” Gerard asked, sitting up. “I was really overwhelmed, too. When he told me, I mean.”

“It’s a joke, right?” Michael laughed nervously. “You’re not serious.”

“I am.” Frank shrugged, sitting next to Gerard on the end of the dock. 

“That  _ is  _ really warm.” Gerard scooted closer. “It’s okay, Mikes. It won’t bite.”

“I suppose.” He said, surprisingly calm. He sat next to Frank, drawn in by the warmth. “So,” He broke the short silence. “You think I could come to your house?”

“Damn, you’re taking it really easy.” Frank said. “I don’t see why not.”

“Now?”

“Alright, Gerard?”

“Yeah, I wanna go too.”

-

Michael stepped through, shivering at how ice cold the portal was. Frank’s room was quite large. He noticed the huge screen-wall in front of his bed. Then the black boxes in the wall corners. He neared the bathroom screen, not sure what to make of it. Gerard and Frank sat on the floor in front of the huge black screen and Frank started talking to it. It lit up and began playing an I Love Lucy episode. Michael swore under his breath. Was that a television?

“Television!” Gerard smiled at him, pointing at it. 

“That’s so fucking cool.” He poked at the small screen and it lit up, giving him soap options. “What’s this?”

“Bathroom guide. You can choose all your shower options. Shampoo, conditioner, soap, water temperature, how long you wanna be in there. Even lotion options for afterwards.” Frank explained. 

“This is so cool.” He began constructing a hypothetical shower. “So many options..” He continued mumbling to himself as he got used to touching the screen and choosing his soaps. “Uh, not to move around so fast, but I’ve got a question.” Michael said. Frank looked at him, listening. “Would it be possible for Ray to come too? He’s my best friend and I wanna show him too. He can keep a secret if you’re worried.”

“I don’t see why not.” Frank said. “As long as he can keep a secret, he could come around.”

“Oh, awesome!” Michael smiled wide. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He ran through the portal, leaving only his head in Frank’s room. “This is so cool, thanks for sharing Frank!”

“‘Course, man.” Frank waved as he disappeared, retrieving Ray. 

“Sorry, I came through and brought the whole circus with me.” Gerard apologized, laying his head on Frank’s shoulder. 

“It’s only two people.” Frank laughed. “And they’re my friends. It’s actually nice.” Frank said. “Does Mikey know about us?”

“Oh, yeah. He told me last night. I don’t know how long he’s known. But he doesn’t really think twice about it.”

“How do you feel? Letting someone from your own time know?” Frank smiled, petting his hair.

“Freeing… but also like I’m trapped. I don’t know what I’ll tell my parents. Mikey told me I couldn’t hide it forever and I guess he’s right.”

“I’m really proud of you, Gerard.” Frank kissed his forehead. 

“Oh, that reminds me. My mom wants your grandparents to come over to dinner tomorrow night.”

“T-tomorrow night? My grandparents? Dinner with them?” He sputtered, being thrown off guard by the whole sentence. 

“I told my mom I had been out studying you. Then i had dinner with your grandfather for his 61st birthday. I don't think she believes me and she wants to meet them.” Gerard explained. 

“Fuck, Gerard. What are we gonna do?”

“I don’t know. Hire old people to pretend to be your grandparents.”

“Yeah, if you want to get us caught.” Frank and Gerard laughed at the idea together. “Maybe it could work.”

“Don’t even try it.” Gerard warned. “We couldn’t get away with it.”

“Sure we could.” Frank shrugged. “It’s just dinner and smalltalk. And you’re off the hook.”

“It’s a bad idea. My mother-”

“Ho-ly shit, nosebleed!” Ray’s voice filled the room. Frank and Gerard quickly separated their bodies. “What is going on in here? Is that a television?”

“It is! Check out this bathroom thing!” Michael ran back over to the shower options. “Look, you choose everything. Frank, does the shower just wash you itself?”

“It does.”

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

“God!” Ray laughed. “That is the coolest! Oh, by the way, you guys can go back to huggin’ or whatever. I already know.”

“You know?” Gerard asked, a pang of surprise hitting him in the face. 

“Oh, yeah.” He scoffed, as if it was a dumb question. 

“Mikes, you told?” Gerard threw a dirty look to his brother. 

“He didn’t, I swear.” Ray said. “It was so obvious, you cats didn’t even try to hide it. What’s the city like here, anyways? Do you guys have flying cars?”

“Yeah, they’re there. I mean, they're not  _ cars  _ like you think they look. But they're basically the same.” Frank said. “Usually they're up in the city at 8 in the morning and 6 in the afternoon.”

“It’s almost ten.” Ray said, looking at his watch. “Are they only up there at those times?”

“No, that’s the most traffic. There’ll be a few strays up there.”

“Shit, nosebleed, we’ve  _ got  _ to see those.” Ray said, barely containing his excitement. “You’ve seen those, Gerard?”

“Oh, yeah.” He nodded, his eyes widening. “You would not  _ believe  _ how surreal it is. It's just too cool. You’ve really got to see them for yourself.” 

“You wanna go?” Ray asked Michael. 

“You bet your fuckin’ ass, I do.” He started up the stairs. “Uh, do you mind, Frank? I know we’ll have to come back through later.”

“Get outta here, guys.” He said, smiling at their happy urgency. “Me and Gerard will be here.”

“Awesome, thanks so much Frank!” Ray said. “See you cats later.” He ran up the stairs behind Michael. Frank heard the front door open and close a few moments later. 

“You think they’ll be okay in the city? By themselves so behind the times?” Frank asked.

“Oh, they'll be fine. They're resourceful and sneaky. Any trouble they get into they can get out. Mikes is a slick talker and Ray is his accomplice.” Gerard snorted. “When we were 12, Mikey talked a storekeeper into giving him a ‘free sample’ of candy while Ray stuffed chocolate bars into his backpack in plain sight. It was really astounding.”

“They're that good?”

“Oh, yeah. You wouldn’t believe.”

“Why does he call Michael  _ nosebleed _ ? Is he calling him that or am I hearing wrong?” Frank asked. He had wondered it from the first time he’d heard it, but was too shy to ask. 

“Oh, it means stupid, I guess.” He said. 

“He’s calling him stupid?”

“Well, no. Not really.” Gerard shrugged, thinking of how to explain it. “They used to not get along when they were little so Ray  _ did  _ used to call him nosebleed to make him feel bad. But now it’s just… a nickname of the sort. Doesn't mean _stupid_ anymore. Get it?”

“I think so. I’ve never heard of a nickname like that.” Frank yawned, laying his head on Gerard’s shoulder. “ _ Oh _ , guess what I did last night.”

“What’d you do?” 

“I made us reservations.” Frank smiled, baring his teeth, “The Italian place the old couple on the train were going to. It’s in three weeks. Exactly.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic!” Gerard smiled. “Oh Frank, this is wonderful.”

-

 

Gerard’s eyes snapped open to a light tapping sound on his window coming occasionally. He looked and saw a small pebble click against the glass. Without any further delay he pulled the sheets from his body and looked out the window. Frank was standing there are looking up at him. Once  he saw him looking down at him he used his arms to gesture for him to come down. Gerard pulled  a blanket from his bed and wrapped it around his body as he went down the stairs, creeping quietly in the cold house. The glow from the TV filled the living room and part of the staircase. He saw Michael slouched on the couch, head laid sideways on the cushion.

“What are you doing?” Michael asked. He was watching TV. The reeking of whiskey wafted over into Gerard’s face. 

“Are you drinking?” Gerard asked as he opened the door, squeezing the middle hinge so it didn’t squeak. He gestured for Frank to come inside. 

“Yeah, took it from Dad’s liquor cabinet. I’m not drunk yet.”

“Smells like…” Frank sniffed the air as he came inside. “Whiskey?”

“Oh, yeah.” Michael nodded, smiling. “Want some?”

“Mm,” Frank thought. He had never actually had whiskey before. He’d drank from his mother’s vodka stash under the kitchen sink. But he drank too much and didn’t like how it felt. Maybe whiskey was different. His mother seemed to like it enough to keep it in her watch. “Yeah, why not.” He took the bottle by its neck and filled his mouth. 

“Jeez,” Michael said. “Some some for the rest of us. Gee, you want some?” He offered him too. 

“Alright,” He huffed. “Scoot over.” He told Michael as he sat down on the couch. “Wanna sit down, Frank?”

“Yeah,” He said, sitting. “Here.” He handed the bottle to Gerard. He had taken a bigger swig than Frank had. “Do you drink a lot?”

“No,” He groaned, the warm whiskey being rough against his throat. “But fuck my dad. I hate when he gets drunk. More for me, less for him.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Michael said, starting to feel tipsy. “Gerard likes to drink. He’s just a social drinker. Dad’s gonna go out tomorrow and buy more booze. He’s gonna think he drank it all by himself in the morning. Fucker has no sense of courtesy.” He ranted quietly, his father snoring upstairs. “Anywho,” He sighed, handing the bottle back to Frank. “What are you doing here? It’s almost two.”

“I found some old people who are willing to play my grandparents for tonight.” He said, smiling wide. As soon as he had finished talking he took two more drinks from the bottle. 

“Is that plan gonna work?” Michael said, a smirk beginning to stretch on his face. 

“It’s gonna have to.” Gerard said, taking the bottle from Frank. “I need to get Mom off my fucking back.”

“How’d you get ‘em to do it?” Michael asked. 

“I’m paying them $250 an hour each.” He shrugged. 

“Fuck,” Michael groaned, removing the bottle from his mouth. “For that much money I’ll put on a dress and be Grandma Iero for a night.”

“Fuck off.” Frank laughed. “I told them everything they need to know. And they’re completely down to play along.” He sighed, sitting back on the couch. His eyes finally caught the television and he was drawn in. 

“I hope this works.” Gerard said, settling into the couch cushion.”

“This is gonna be fun to watch,” Michael said, laughing lowly to himself. “At least Dad won’t drink tonight since we’ll have guests.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so so much for taking time to read!!


	8. Eight.

Frank and Gerard were sat across from each other at the Way’s dinner table. They exchanged mischievous glances as Frank’s fake grandfather spouted fake stories about his childhood. According to Bernard, Frank had broken his arm falling from a tree when he was only six years old. And according to Marie, Frank’s best talent was his amazing crocheting skills he had picked up when he was only ten. He almost wanted to scream with laughter at how good of liars the two were. Gerard looked up at him from his plate with a tight-lipped smile as he heard the story Bernard was telling about Frank, knowing it was pulled out of the air. 

“So, Bernard.” Mrs. Way put down her fork. “You just had a birthday?”

“Yes, I did.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin as he finished swallowing. “I was really thankful Gerard was able to stay for a piece of cake, at least.” He smiled charmingly. Frank was glad he had remembered what he'd told him.

“Yes, it was nice to have the company.” Marie chimed in.

“He’s really a nice boy, you did such a fine job raising him.” He stretched the smile again. “I heard through the grapevine that Gerard found himself in trouble for staying out after curfew?”

“Well, yes.” His mother said insecurely. 

As Gerard’s mother began droning on in explaining herself, Gerard slowly, quietly removed his shoe. He was very careful to not let the hard sole tap on the floor. It left his foot covered only by a thick navy blue sock. He pushed it against Frank’s ankle and then under his pants, pushing at his shin. Frank smiled down at his plate and quickly stopped, scared of anyone else seeing him smile. He looked up at Gerard who was eating as if he wasn’t doing anything. Frank pushed back with his shoed foot, playing into the game and Gerard held down his own smile. 

Michael furrowed his brow as he looked between the two, seeing them hiding something. He slyly directed his eyes to under the table as not to alert anyone else to look down. He saw the two kicking each other like girls and he suppressed the urge to laugh. Instead he scooted his chair in closer to the table and slid his own shoe off. He crept his own foot in the middle. Frank cocked his head to the side, looking to Gerard for an explanation. Gerard looked at Michael and swiftly kicked him in the shin and he grunted too loudly. Frank retracted his foot back close to the legs of his chair and watched Michael trying to not laugh. 

“What is it, Michael?” His father asked. 

“No, nothing.” He coughed a couple times into his napkin to hide his laughing. “I was just choking, I’m fine. Really. Excuse me.” He threw a mean look to Gerard as soon as his father had looked back down.

"You're excused." Gerard said, teasing him further.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Their mother continued. “Gerard’s always been such a good boy. Perfect grades, perfect attendance, always polite. But lately he’s just been slacking on curfew. And he refuses to tell me where he goes most nights.”

“Well, I can tell you all the time he spent at my house, he was behaving just great.” Bernard confirmed. “A really fine boy. It's most likely just the need teenage boys have for their privacy. Hell, he probably wouldn't answer if you asked what color socks he was wearing.” Upon hearing this, Gerard nervously slid his foot back into his shoe.

“Frank lives with you?” Their father asked. “What about the mother?”

Bernard looked to Frank, a flash a nervousness hitting his face. Frank nodded small enough that only those who were looking for the movement could see it. 

“Yes,” Bernard said, clearing his throat. “He does. Details aren’t much of dinner talk anyway.”

Frank quit listening. He wanted the painful questioning of the dinner to be over. It felt like too much responsibility sitting on his shoulders no matter how much fun the three boys were having witnessing it. The only thing that kept him from declaring it was time to get Grandpa to bed was that if all went well enough, Gerard wouldn’t be in trouble for spending so much time with him anymore. Enough so that his mom would cease to poke around in his business. Because he knew how much dirt there was that Gerard didn’t want his mom to stir up at all. Protecting Gerard from having his secret outed was more important than being uncomfortable for an hour or two. 

“How’s the tutoring going, Frank?” Gerard’s father asked, catching him slightly off guard. “Is he teaching you well?”

“Sure he is.” He smiled, sitting up straighter. “I’ve learned quite a bit from him about literature. He’s smart that way.”

“Good, he’ll get through college easy as a breeze.” He smiled, pained. The three boys knew it was because he wanted a stiff drink, but was only offered water.

-

 

“That was great.” Gerard said, closing his bedroom door behind him. 

“You think she bought it?’ Frank asked, sitting on Gerard’s bed.

“Oh, definitely.” He laughed. “Once he started talking about your childhood and telling stories she was sold immediately on pity for doubting the old folks.”

“I feel amazing.”

“I feel on top of the world.” Gerard laid down on the bed. 

“Can I kiss you?” Frank asked, tracing his finger against Gerard’s bottom lip. 

“Quickly. The door isn't locked.” He felt a flutter of adrenaline sprout in his torso. He knew he was doing something so against the rules. 

“ _ Quickly. _ ” Frank repeated quietly as he leaned down closer to Gerard’s mouth. The edge of his lip lifted into a smirk as if pulled by string. 

He pressed his lips to Gerard’s. Their mouths tasted of the shortcake and coffee they had consumed for dessert. Frank couldn’t help but feel jittery as he touched his lips to Gerard's. He knew what they were doing here was an extremely dangerous game. If anyone besides Michael had ventured to open the bedroom door, both of them would be punished. Gerard had told Frank specifics of what happened to the kind of men they were when caught and why they had to be careful to not meet the same fate. 

But now, even as the horror stories were anchored deep into his soft brain, Frank didn’t care. If he were to be butchered with the lingering taste of Gerard’s shortcake and coffee resting on his tongue he wouldn’t mind. He’d follow the scent of pomade through the afterlife until he found him waiting for him. He laughed into Gerard’s mouth. 

“What’s so funny?” He said against Frank’s mouth. 

“Nothing’s funny.” He laughed again and Gerard had laughed this time too. “Just really happy. What’s funny to you?”

“Just happy.” He said, pressing one more peck to Frank’s pursed lips. He ran his hand through his soft, floppy hair. “If I went now, I’d die happy.”

“Don’t talk about dying.” Frank said, pressing his hand to Gerard’s mouth. Every time he had mentioned it, Frank could only remember the obituary pictures. He would never bring it up, but he could never stop thinking of them. “You’re never gonna die.” He removed his hand. 

“We’re gonna live forever.” He whispered. There was a knock at the door. Three fast taps, then another one after a short pause. “It’s Mikes.” He told Frank. “You alone?” He asked loudly. 

“Uh huh.” He said from the other side. 

“Come in.”

“Hey, Frank.” He started to laugh as he shut the door behind him. “Dinner was a total fucking hit. They both bought it. The two old bats are still down there talkin’ about your fake childhood.” He held his stomach as he cackled. 

“It’s pretty funny.” Frank started laughing, partly because Michael looked so funny doing it himself. 

“Eugh, were you guys kissin’ in here?” He craned his neck to look at their mouths. 

“Yeah, what’s it to you?” Gerard said, reaching up to touch Frank’s hair. 

“Lock the door next time, you raving lunatic! What if I had been dad?” He threw his hands up in frustration. "Be careful, Gerard. I'm serious."

“Ah, whatever.” Gerard waved his hand in the air as if to get rid of his comment. “He never comes in here.” He sat up on the bed and flipped his legs over so he was sitting next to Frank. 

“Yeah.” Michael sat on the floor in front of them. “Fuckin’ fair enough. But Ma doesn’t hardly knock. She woulda barged in here and seen you two.”

“So what?” Gerard asked, looking at Frank yawning. 

“ _ So what. _ ” He repeated. “So, you wouldn’t have anywhere to live! Dead brain. So, sorry to say it, the word would get around. You know Jack and his crew?” Gerard nodded. "They bash guys like you two once they find out. That's where Jim went, remember him?"

"I remember him." Gerard sighed. "They won't get to me, Mikes. I swear."

“He could come live with me.” Frank grinned. 

“Yeah?” Michael said. “What about me?”

“Sure, why not.” Frank said, easily. "I've got the space."

“Man, you are too cool. Got such a fr-” There was a single knock at the door that cut Michael off. 

“Hey, guys.” Gerard’s mom opened the door and peeked in. “What are you up to in here with the door shut?” She inquired. 

“Playin’ spin the bottle.” Michael snorted. She bent down a bit and smacked him in the head. “Ah! Alright, Ma, gosh!”

“That’s what you get, you moron.” Gerard laughed. 

“Don’t be a smart mouth. You know better, Michael.” She warned Michael who was still rubbing at his head. “Frank, honey, your grandparents say it's time for you to go.” 

“Oh, alright. Thanks.” He smiled. He exchanged a look with the brothers that said  _ now she’s being nice.  _

“I packed you guys some leftovers if you wanna take them home with you. Marie told be about her awful arthritis and I feel bad for her having to cook.” She started leading him down the stairs, leftovers in his hands. “You guys are welcome anytime.”

“Oh, thanks so much, Mrs. Way.” He said thankfully. “We’ll keep that in mind.” He saw the open door and Bernard and Marie already piling into their car. “Thanks for having us over. Hope that clears things up about where Gerard’s been. Sorry again.”

“It’s alright, I assumed he was up to no good too quickly.” She smiled, tiredly. “Take care, honey.” She waved as he exited. 

“You too, goodbye.” He closed the door and rushed into the car’s backseat. “Drop me off on Shepherd street.” Frank told Bernard. 

“You gonna give us those leftovers?” He asked, backing out onto the street. 

Frank stuck his head through the open window and saw Gerard looking out of his window. They smiled at each other and Frank blew a kiss. Gerard felt too nervous to catch it and started to laugh. Frank waved and mouthed the words  _ I love you  _ as Bernard began to drive. Gerard mouthed them back.

“Close the window, dear.” Marie said. “It’s too cold.”

“Oh, sorry.” He said, cranking the handle. “Oh and no, Bernard. I’m keeping the leftovers, you old, greedy bastard.”

“You’re a rude son of a bitch, Frank.” He retorted back, speeding as to get to Shepherd street as fast as possible. 

“Sure, Bernard. Right back at ya.” He sighed, resting his back against the street. He just wanted to get back home so he could go to sleep. Putting on an act all night was exhausting. 

He closed his eyes as the lasagne warmed his thighs while it sat in his lap. He could still taste the sweetness of Gerard’s tongue on his lips. Could still feel his hands running along his scalp as he felt attentively at his hair. He sniffed his shirt slowly as to find a trace of Gerard on it. It was slight, but definitely there. The car slowed to a stop. 

“This is your street, Frank.” Bernard reached back to pat him. 

“Thanks, guys. I appreciate everything. Take care, Marie. If we stayed in touch I could get you some cream for that bad arthritis. Clear it right up.” He offered, getting out of the car.

“Would you do that?” She smiled. “Oh, that’d be wonderful, Frankie.” She said, writing on a piece of paper. “Here’s my address.”

“I’ll send it soon, consider it a gift. You’ll be back to knitting in less than a week.” He said, waving to her as he began to walk and the car drove away. 


	9. Nine.

Frank pulled his hood over head head as a thin collection of snow began to float down. He had dropped off a couple boxes of prescriptions of the arthritis cream for Marie on the old house’s porch. They'd last her until she was 110. Christmas was coming soon and he was already looking for gifts for Gerard. He usually began his Christmas ritual of watching his favorite holiday movies after the first week of December. Usually, he’d do it alone. But this time he wanted to invite Gerard to do it with him. Michael and Ray were invited as well for a handful of movies. But he wanted to save the romance ones just for them. 

He knocked on their door and turned his warm aura coming from his watch off. Once it had fell away, the cold began to nip at his exposed face. It began to seep into his jacket. He bounced on his toes slightly and smiled when their mother opened the door. 

“Oh, hi Frank.” She greeted him. “Come in, you must be freezing.” She invited him, closing the door behind him. 

“I’m alright. It doesn’t bother me that much.” He pulled his gloves off and put them in his coat pocket. 

“Let me take your coat.” She said, pulling it off his shoulders. He thanked her as she hung it on the coat rack. “Gerard’s in his room. Michael is out with Raymond. Care for something to drink? Coffee? Water?”

“No, thanks. I’m okay, but that’s really kind of you.” He smiled politely. “If you don’t mind, would it be fine for me to go to Gerard’s room?”

“I don’t see why not. Go ahead.” She smiled before turning back to go into the kitchen. 

Frank had noticed the big shift in her attitude towards him and he pinned it on the dinner. He couldn’t imagine her taking his coat or offering him drinks if he hadn’t organized the fake grandparents to push their narrative. He knew the awkwardness of getting people involved and dealing with Bernard’s overall unpleasantness was worth it. Gerard was obviously no longer any suspicion of doing anything that wasn't preferable. He smiled to himself as he reached the top of the stairs. 

Gerard’s door was closed and he turned the knob slowly. He opened the door easily and it didn’t squeak to his luck. He was hunched over sitting in a chair at his desk, scribbling on paper. Frank watched him as he leaned against the door frame. He could see his shoulders rising and falling as he breathed evenly. Higher as he sighed. His whole arm moved as he wrote. The frustration traveled up from his fingers where the pencil laid to his shoulder. Frank took a few quiet, heel to toe steps to get closer to Gerard. 

“Boo.” Frank said, lowering his head next to Gerard's. 

“Fuck!” He flinched and turned to look at him. “God, you scared the daylight out of me. When did you get here?” He asked as Frank laid down on his bed and began flipping through a comic book he had on his nightstand. 

“About an hour ago. Thought you’d realize I was here so long. My legs are _exhausted_.” He said. 

“You haven’t.” Gerard said in disbelief, half believing him.

“No, I haven’t.” He laughed, turning the nightstand lamp on so he could see the book better. “I just got here. What are you doing?”

“I just finished some math. Started working on this paper for lit class.” He sighed. “An analysis.”

“How’s it going?” 

“I didn’t read the book.” He laughed. “I have to read it now.”

“Why didn’t you read it?”

“Because.” He said smiling as he went to close and lock the door. He crawled on the bed between Frank’s legs and laid on his chest, sighing and closing his eyes. “I’ve been spending so much time with you.”

“Oh, shit.” He said, feeling a bit guilty. But he knew the time spent was well worth it. “I’ll do it for you.”

“You will?” He looked up at him.

“Yeah, I’m a fast reader.” He started running his fingers through his hair. 

“Liar, you’re just gonna get some robot to do it.” He laid his head back down. 

“You caught me.” He laughed. “Let me do it, I’ll have it back to you by tomorrow.” He used his other hand to rub his back. “Is it so bad if a robot does it?”

“Yes, you can do it. Or I guess Thaddeus can do it.” He yawned. 

“I’ll take the book home with me.” Frank yawned too.

He started flipping through the pages of the book again. Gerard was laying on his chest with his eyes closed, beginning to dream. Frank laid his head on the pillow, too nervous to fall asleep like this. The last thing in the world he’d want was to be caught like this in Gerard’s time. Not for his own sake, but in fear of what could happen to Gerard. He wouldn’t let himself sleep, but he’d leave Gerard to rest. Frank would feel to guilty to wake him like this anyhow. He looked tired, like he had been working on schoolwork for a while. And Frank blamed himself to the fact that Gerard was spending so much time with him he had began to get behind in school.

His soft cheeks and nose were rosy, early signs of a winter cold creeping up on him. Frank felt his cheeks and forehead which were abnormally warm. He looked that way when the four had swam in the lake and he’d caught a cold. Frank slowly opened the top drawer of the nightstand and picked out another comic book. He decided when he woke, he’d have Eros give him a tab to get rid of the cold. 

He read through the pages in the quiet room. The only sounds bouncing off Gerard’s white walls were the sound of their breathing and the pages turning. Frank heard the front door open and close. A little bit of muffled conversation, which sounded like Michael and his mom. Then a record begin to play. Gerard stirred awake and looked at Frank, a bit confused about where he was for a few seconds. When he pieced it all together, he laid his head back down. He put his hand under Frank's shirt and began rubbing his hand against his soft skin. 

“Did someone come home?” 

“Yeah, I think it was Mikey.” He said, laying his hand on his forehead. “You’re warm, you know.”

“I don’t feel good. I think I’m getting sick.” 

"I love you." Frank said for no particular reason. 

"I love you." Gerard said back and pressed a quick peck to Frank's lips. “How long was I asleep?” He asked, rolling off of Frank and stretching his limbs.

“Not very long.” He pulled his watch from his pocket and looked at the time. “Maybe thirty minutes.”

“Oh,” He said, rubbing his face. “I shouldn’t have slept. I just feel so much worse than I did before.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” He touched his face. “Do you want me to get you medicine.”

“If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Open your mouth.” Frank said and Gerard did. “Close it and let it dissolve.”

He put a thin strip of green from Eros on his tongue and waiting for it to read what he needed. It listed the vitamins and things Gerard’s body needed to get over the sickness. Frank tapped the “ _ make _ ” option on the small screen. A second later a red medicine tab with a sugar overcoat was ejected. 

“Open again.” Frank set the red on his tongue. “Leave it on your tongue until its gone.”

“These are for children, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, they have bad immune systems.”

“Everything tastes like sugar.”

“I guess to keep the kids from spitting it out.”

“I would suppose.” Gerard closed his eyes and waited for the medicine to take effect. He lifted Frank's shirt and put his head on his bare stomach. 

Frank picked the book back up and continued from where he had left it. He was surprised at how drawn in he was to read the comic all the way through. The story of James Bond was something from the past he never bothered to explore. It never interested him. But now he couldn’t pull his nose from the boxes of pictures and text. 

There was a quick knock at the door and both boys looked at each other. Gerard scrambled out of the bed and Frank rushed to fix the covers. Then there was another knock. Three fast raps, then another one after a short pause.

“Oh, it’s Mikes.” Gerard breathed out heavily as he walked to the door to open it. “Medicine worked by the way. I feel better already.” He smiled at Frank. 

“Why’s your door locked, Gee?” He said. Frank could hear that he was also sick. He had the same nasally tinge to his voice he had gained after the river. “Oh, because of  _ you _ .” He saw Frank. 

“Hey, Mikey. How’s it going?” Frank waved from the bed. 

“I actually came in here to ask about you. Was gonna go to your house.” He sighed. “Was actually kind of excited to go back to the future.”

“You can go sometime soon, Mikey.”

“Oh, I know that.” He said waving his hand. “Just thought it’s be cool to just dip into the future and be like  _ hey, Frank. _ ” He lifted his hands dramatically. “Anyway, I haven’t even gotten to my point. Do you guys wanna go see a movie with me and Ray?”

“What are you guys gonna see?” Gerard said as he was leaned down in a small desk mirror. He worked to fix his hair in the minuscule parts that had been misplaced when he napped. 

“Forbidden Planet.”

“It’s at the drive-in?” Gerard stood back up and stretched. 

“Yeah, you writing a book?” Michael laughed. “You guys comin’ or not, Ray’s waiting outside in the car. He doesn’t like wasting gas so he’s probably frozen by now with the heat off.”

“Not our fault he’s cheap.” Frank said. “I wanna go. Gerard?”

“Yeah, let me grab my shoes and change.” He said, pulling clothes from his closet. Michael and Frank made their way into the hall. 

“Wait- I wanted to ask you something. Follow me?” Michael said, beckoning Frank into his room. “You know how you got that fancy watch?”

“Yeah.” Frank said, looking around. Michael's room was almost opposite from Gerard’s. Gerard’s room was pretty much immaculate as where Michael’s room seemed it hadn’t been tidied in years. Clothes littered the floor, drawings and posters covered his walls, his bed wasn’t made. There were socks and pant legs hanging from drawers. 

“So, I was wondering if I could get a watch like that?”

“You mean to bring home from my time?” 

“Yeah, I saw some like that in a shop. When Ray and I went.” He dug through a drawer in his desk until he pulled a few boxes of candy from it. “Too expensive to buy there.” He explained when Frank looked at him curiously. “Meet us in the car, Gerard!” He yelled as he left his room, Frank behind.”

“Sure!” He yelled from behind his closed door. They assumed he was getting dressed. 

“Well, anyway.” Michael continued as they stomped down the stairs. “They’re really expensive, so we tried to lift one, naturally.” He pulled his coat off the coat rack. 

“Naturally.” Frank repeated as he took his own coat. 

“But security is tight, Frank.” He sighed. “There was this shield covering the whole exit. We couldn’t get out. The storekeeper was yelling and eventually Ray and I just dropped the piece and ran as fast as we could.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty much impossible to steal from my time.” He said, pressing the screen on his watch face to put up the warm aura since he heard Ray didn’t have the heat on.

“And people from your time run fast too!” He said, opening the front door. “God, I thought my heart was gonna pop. That guy ran like a cheetah!” He shut the door and skipped to Ray’s car. “You better turn the heater on, you fucking closet case!” He shook his finger at him and Ray waved his hand. 

“Drop dead twice, nosebleed!” He yelled back. 

“And look like you?” He slid into the passenger seat and Frank slid into the back. 

“Is that you?” Ray said. “The warm?”

“Yeah,” Frank nodded. “My watch.” 

“Far out.” Ray smiled. “We tried to steal one. It's impossible!”

“I was just telling him.” Michael said. “Anyway. If I bought one, would it work here, Frank?”

“I don’t really know. Mine works here, so I think so.” Frank said. 

“We should get one.” Ray said, sounding congested. 

“Fuck! Are you  _ all  _ sick?” Frank laughed. 

“Winter colds, man. Get us every time.” Ray said. “Gerard looked pretty bad at school today. Is he not comin’?”

“Nah, he’s comin’.” Michael laid back in his seat and lit a cigarette, illuminating the dark car. “You know him. Takes forever to get dressed after he wakes up.”

“Gotta fix his hair all the time.” Ray shook his head.  “How sick is he?”

“Not sick anymore.” Frank answered. “I got medicine if you guys wanna try it out. I can’t handle listening to you two talk like that anymore.”

“Well, hand it over, scooch.” Ray held his hand back, waiting. 

“Me too.” Michael puffed smoke and held his hand back. 

“Leave these on your tongues to dissolve.” Frank handed them the green strips from Eros. 

“Tastes sweet.” Ray said. 

“Like sugar.” Michael confirmed. 

They sat for the mere seconds it took for the watch to calculate what each boy needed to get rid of the virus. Ray’s list was compiled first since he was the one to dissolve it first. Then Michael’s fell next to his. Ray had a much longer list, obviously the sickest of the three. It took an extra three seconds to make Ray’s pill. Which came out blue onto Frank’s palm. Michaels came out not five seconds later a bright pink. 

“Got ‘em?” Michael asked. 

“Uh-huh. Just came out of the watch.” Frank said. 

“Well slip it to me.” Ray held his hand out again. “Your watch made these?”

“Yeah, future shit.” Frank handed them over. “Don’t swallow it. Let it dissolve too.” He told them. 

“Hear that, Ray?” Michael nudged him, putting the pill in his mouth. “Don’t swallow, you capable of that?”

“Get fucked, nosebleed.” He shoved him. “There’s Gerard.” He nodded his head, twisting his key in the ignition. Gerard opened the back door and slid in next to Frank. 

“Took you long enough.” Michael said bitterly as they backed out onto the street. 

“Shut it, ankle biter.” He said as he took Frank’s hand in his. “You look better, thought you were sick.”

“Yeah, Frank gave us some future pills though. Had me feeling better in a flash.” Ray said, already sounding decongested. “Tastes good too.”

“Because they’re for kids.” Gerard laughed. “You know that? They make those things sweet so the kids don’t spit ‘em out.”

“What about everyone else?” Michael asked. 

“No one else gets sick.” Frank said easily. 

“You guys don’t get sick?” Ray asked. 

“No, kids do sometimes. But once you’re a teenager you don’t ever get sick, really.” Frank shrugged. 

“Lucky.” Michael laughed. 

“Give me your due-backs.” Ray held out one hand to Michael. He handed over his cigarette pack and ray took one and held the pack back to the backseat. He looked at the boys. “You want one?” The two nodded and each took one from the pack. 

“Eyes on the road, moron!” Michael yelled, grabbing the steering wheel to turn back into their lane. “If you’re gonna hand out my smokes, least you could do is keep me alive.”

“Ah, shut up.” Ray turned back around. “If you’re dead you won’t need them anyway.” He tossed the pack back into Michael’s lap. 

“Yes, I will. What do you think all the fire in hell is for anyway?” He puffed. "Lighting  _these_." He held up his cigarette. 

“You really are gonna go to hell, you know that?” Ray snorted. “You just keep racking up points for your fuckin’ ticket everyday. And I'm goin' with you because I'm laughin'.”

“He’s not that funny, he’s just dumb.” Gerard said, lighting his cigarette. 

“ Michael shrugged. “Maybe the Devil will think I’m funny.”

“You think he’ll cut you a break for some jokes?” Frank puffed out smoke easily. His lungs were becoming used to smoking so often.

“You never know.” Michael shrugged. 

Ray turned the radio knob a couple notches up so everyone in the car could hear the music. The smoke from all their cigarettes fogged up the car too much and Ray cranked his window down a crack. Smoke escaped and the cold air flew in and nipped at their faces. Which no one really minded since they all knew they weren’t going to get sick anyway. 

Frank ashed his cigarette out the window and looked at the trees passing as Ray drove. They eventually thinned out until he started to see more places with people. The smell of pine still stuck in his nose, which he didn’t mind. He ashed his cigarette again as the large screens came into view. Ray pulled into the car line and rolled his window all the way down. 

They rolled slowly through. Ray handed over some money and went to find a parking space. He pressed down on the gas and the car launched forward, stealing a space from another car. He smiled to himself, obviously pleased. He parked the car and left it running. Though he was cheap and fine with freezing by himself, he wouldn’t want to make his friends cold. 

Gerard nudged Frank softly. “Wanna go get drinks?”

“Sure, I’ve got cash.” Frank said, opening the door. 

“Get me a coke!” Ray said. Michael scooted down in the seat and grunted into his cigarette. “Get this germ here a 7-up.”

“Will do.” Gerard said, shutting the door. 

He walked relatively close to Frank. Closer than he had dared even walk in the empty forest months before. Frank didn’t mind, he actually prefered it. Gerard found the drink stand like it was second nature and stood his place in line. Frank remembered he had said he and Michael used to come see films with their parents often when they were kids. 

“Hey, aren’t you Frank?” A girl tapped him on the shoulder and he looked at her. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t remember her name. “Delilah.” She said. 

“Yes, Delilah!” He suddenly remembered his first day of school. “You gave me that jacket.”

“Yeah, how are you?” She said, batting her eyelashes. “Haven’t seen you around.” She set a hand on Frank’s shoulder. 

“Fine, thanks. I don’t go to school anymore.” He and Gerard exchanged glances at the landing of her hand. Gerard had to try hard to not laugh. 

“You  quit school?”

“No actually I…” He thought for a moment. “I go to St. Josephs instead. You know,  _ upstate _ .”

“Oh,” She said, taking her hand away. “Yeah, I know that place.” She swallowed. “Well, anyways- nice catching up! I should get back, take care.” She walked away, leaving her place in line empty. 

“You’re a jerk!” Gerard finally allowed himself to laugh.

“You thought I was from there! Remember that?”

“Oh, that was different and you know it.” He laughed again. “You should probably tell her you were just joking.”

“I probably won’t.” Frank smirked. Gerard tilted his head in disapproval. “Fine! Fine, I will!” He put his hands up in surrender. “Next time I see her around I’ll clear it up.”

They reached the front of the line and Gerard ordered four drinks. Three coca-colas and one 7-up for Michael. Frank handed over a bill and took two bottles to the side where he and Gerard popped the caps off and continued to carry them back to the car. 

“There she is.” Gerard said, nudging Frank and nodding in the direction of Delilah. “You’re gonna say something?”

“I did promise.” He huffed, rerouting his course back to the car. “Delilah, hey.” He said to her. She smiled politely. “I was- listen, I was a jerk back there. You know, I’m not really living at St. Josephs. I just transferred schools. Sorry about lying.”

“Oh,” She said letting out a breath he hadn't realized she was holding. “Well that’s alright. Just harmless fun, right?”

“Yes, right!” He laughed, silently thanking god she had accepted. “See you around?”

“Sure.” She smiled and nodded. 

“Deed is done?” Gerard started walking again once Frank had jogged back to his side. 

“Yep, she’s got a crush on me again.”

“Huh, too bad for her.” Gerard said, catching himself before he dared lean down and peck Frank on the cheek.

Frank knocked on the passenger side car window and Michael cranked it down. He thrusted the 7-up bottle into Michael’s face. 

“Sweet, thanks Frank.” He said around his cigarette. 

“Hey,” Gerard had gone quickly around the car to talk to Frank lowly. “There’s a photo booth over there.” He pointed across the lot. Frank squinted and scanned until he saw it. 

“So there is.”

“Do you want to go take pictures?”

“Oh! I’ve read about those before! Yeah.” He set his bottle on the top of Ray’s car and started towards the box. 

Frank slid in past the curtain and sat on the bench while Gerard slid in two coins. He stepped in a moment later and closed the curtain. They sat close together in the tight quarters that their cheeks nearly were pressed together. He smiled wide, showing all of his teeth and Frank did the same. After the flash, they pouted and tried to look exaggeratedly fake-sad. Then Gerard kissed Frank and he was caught off guard, but went with at as not to ruin the film strip. Then after the third flash, Gerard draped his arm over Frank’s shoulders and smiled normally, Frank did the same leaning his head in closer to Gerard’s body. 

The boys stepped out, Gerard was a bit cautious and looked around. No one seemed to notice they had come in and out. He snatched the strips and started back towards the car, squinting at the pictures in the dark. He had paid to get two strips and he handed a copy to Frank. Who also started squinting hard, trying to see anything. 

“I’ve got a flashlight on my watch. We can see them in the car.” Frank said sliding the pictures into his coat pocket, being careful as to not bend or crease it. 

Gerard picked up his pace, trying to get to the car faster since he wanted to see the pictures sooner. Frank picked up his speed too and Gerard posed that he’d race. Frank looked at him, eyebrows raised and stood in a running stance. Gerard said go and the two took off, kicking up gravel as they went. Frank did hold back a bit, having been trained and bred to run faster than anyone in this year. Gerard was a fast runner though. They touched the car at the same time. 

“I always forget how fast you actually are.” Gerard said, out of breath. 

“I went easy on you.” Frank laughed, swiping his coke bottle off the top of the car and getting inside. 

“Who won?” Michael asked, chewing on a licorice. 

“It was a tie.” Gerard said, climbing onto the seat. “I bet Frank could outrun your car, Ray.” 

“No, way. I  _ just  _ souped it up.” Ray said, turning the heat down. “How fast can you run, Frank?”

“Wanna find out?” He smiled, proud that someone was interested in how fast he could run.

“I bet thirty bucks Frank can outrun your car.” Gerard said.

“No way, if he peeled out?” Michael scoffed. “Be realistic.” 

“Wanna bet?” Ray said. “Fifty bucks says he can’t do it.”

“I only have twenty.” Michael said. “But I’m betting against you, Frank.”

“Fine, after the movie lets go and we’ll race. Me against your car, Ray.” 

“Frank vs. Bronson at 9.” Ray confirmed, leaning his seat back. “Now hush, movie’s starting.”

-

“How fast can you run, really?” Gerard asked lowly. 

“I ran 60 miles per hour one time.” Frank sighed as he stretched, touching his toes. “It was just a short bout, but I’m sure I could do better now.”

“Why now?” Gerard asked.

“Because you’ve got thirty bucks riding on me.” Frank clicked his tongue. 

“ _ Are… You… Ready _ ?!” Michael yelled, standing on the empty road between the two lanes, waving a yellow wrapper in the air as a makeshift flag.

“Oh, shut up, ankle biter and get back here.” Gerard shook his head and waved him over. He didn’t want him standing there when the race started just because he was scared of him getting hit. 

“Square.” Michael huffed as he stood next to Gerard. 

“Ready Frank?” Ray asked through the open window. 

“Yup, are you?”

“I’m gonna peel out, man. So don’t hold back.”

“I won’t, trust me.” Frank said, perfecting his stance. 

“Count down, nosebleed!” Ray yelled as he readied his car. 

“On go!  _ Five… _ ” He smiled, pushing Gerard a bit. “You’re gonna be thirty bucks poorer in a minute.  _ Four… _ ”

“Shut up, Frank’s faster than you think.” 

“ _ Three… You  _ don’t even know how fast he is.  _ Two… One… _ ” He prolonged it. “ _ Go! _ ”

And Ray took off, the back of his car swinging from side to side softly before straightening out. He had gone down the street so fast, his tires left black skids in the asphalt. Frank had taken a smooth start, something he was very focused on. It was really common when speed running to get too ahead of yourself and tear a ligament or twist your ankle. But he was very certain and precise about his foot stance and take off. He could hear the steady sound of the car’s motor being pushed as hard as it could. 

He pushed his legs a bit harder than he thought he could go. The familiar feeling of the strain he got when he would train to better himself was flooding his body. His calves were being stretched, thighs were flexed, there was a dull ache in his chest, and it felt like his feet were going to sweep out from under him, but he kept going. The stop sign they were using as a finish line came into view. He pushed hard towards the red like a bull. 

The motor sound fell behind him and before he knew it, he was stopped at the sign, holding onto it as he caught his breath. Ray stopped a few meters ahead of it since he had been going so fast. Frank leaned down, making sure he wouldn’t get sick. When he was sure he was okay, he stood up and wipes the small sweat beads off his forehead. Ray did a u-turn and pulled up close to Frank.

“Get in.” He said, in awe. Frank nodded, unable to speak and slid into the car, his legs aching. “Are you a  _ real  _ person, like you must be an alien.” He laughed, driving fast back to the brothers who were jogging to the car. 

“No,” He breathed steadily, finally able to speak. “I’m a person. Just two hundred years older.”

“I always forget you’re older than me.” He joked, stopping the car and getting out. 

“Well? Who won? You did, huh Ray?” Michael said, smiling. He held his hand out to Gerard. “Thirty bucks, square.”

“Wait just a minute, ankle biter.” He shook his head. “Frank? You okay?” He saw him in the passenger seat, still breathing heavy. 

“I’m okay. Legs hurt.” He said, throwing a thumbs up. “I won.”

“It’s true.” Ray laughed in disbelief. 

“You’re kidding.” Michael said. “No way, Ray! You took off at like 60! You reached 90, at  _ least _ . You were going  _ fast _ !”

“I know, but he’s faster.” He shook his head. “I still can’t believe it myself.

“Cough up the $70, you cheap fucks.” Frank yelled from the car.

“Yeah, yeah.” Ray complained pulling the fifty dollars from his wallet. He handed it to Gerard. 

“I can’t believe this.” Michael handed over the twenty. “He did take of really fast though, I didn’t even know people could run that fast.”

“We should get him home, get some ice on his legs.” Ray said, going to get back in the car. The brothers nodded in agreement and got in too. 

“How’s the legs, Frank?” Michael asked. 

“They feel… bad.” Frank said, breathing normally now. “Achey and burning.”

“Will it be okay? Do you need a doctor?” Gerard asked, leaning into the front seat. 

“Oh, no way. Just have to get a shot or two. Can’t walk for a day, but I’ll be better before you know it.” Frank said, laying his head back on the seat. “Look,” He pointed to his watch face. “Eros said I reached 87mph.” He laughed proudly. 

“Unbelievable.” Michael said. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Well, right now I can’t walk.” Frank shrugged. “By the way, I’m gonna need someone to carry me back to my room.”

“I’ll do it.” Ray volunteered. “I broke ‘em, I gotta buy ‘em.”

“I’ll stay with you, Frank.” Gerard said. “To look after you.”

“Look after him.” Michael laughed and after a moment Ray did too. 

“What’s so funny?” Frank asked. 

"He says  _look after him_." Michael imitated Gerard's voice. "As if he's not always there with you." Gerard and Frank looked at each other and after a moment couldn't help but laugh too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just started classes again so updates will most likely be slowed. but the end is coming soon! i really appreciate all the positive feedback on this story. it means so much to me!! thank you to everyone who read/likes my story. :-)


	10. Ten.

Ray carried Frank back to his bed. Got him ice. And made sure he had gotten his painkillers into him. His watch had measured his pain and prescribed him a pill Ray had never heard of. It seeped into his skin through the wristband and he was visibly more relaxed a moment later. But even though the pain was gone, Ray couldn’t help but feel at fault for leaving Frank bedridden now. The poor kid couldn’t even handle walking to the bathroom to take a piss. He hand swung his legs down off the bed and tried to stand. His knees locked up and a strike of pain shot up from his ankles to the nape of his neck. Frank had groaned in agony and sat on the bed, Gerard quick to reach out to stroke his face. Ray immediately volunteered to carry him to the bathroom. 

“Do you wanna hold my dick for me too?” Frank had asked, laughing at the worry on Ray’s face. 

“Does your dick hurt?” Ray asked. “Or do I just look that pretty tonight?”

Frank had laughed and Ray felt relief at seeing his teeth in a smile again. Frank did his best to assure him it wasn’t his fault, and that he looked worse than he felt. But he knew that wasn’t true when he laid him back in the bed and started to cry from pain when he dared flex his foot. The pain had shot up through his thighs and burned his back and stomach muscles. 

Michael and Ray both agreed that they’d go find good food while Gerard and Frank were laid up in the bed, watching a movie in color. They couldn’t really understand most of it anyway. The things they were talking about made no sense to them and they couldn’t keep up. Frank apologized for the film not being quite universal, but Ray and Michael didn’t care. They were too fascinated with the special effects and the perfect, crisp sound. 

Ray and Michael walked until they found a building with a real food smell emitting from it. They had been walking for nearly twenty minutes and hadn't found a restaurant worthwhile. They had passed some empty fast food places, but he didn’t want to get Frank some fast food. He felt bad enough he was about to go home, bake him a pie and deliver it too. 

“That place looks good.” Michael pointed to a restaraunt. “Smells good from here too.”

“Should we go in?”

“Sure, how’re we gonna get it?”

“Uh,” Ray thought while they crossed the street. “To go?” He shrugged. 

“Sure. Turns out us and our runts needed a quiet night in, but still want some…” He looked at the sign. “Sicily taste.” He laughed. 

“Don’t make fun, nosebleed.” He hissed as they went inside. “It’s bad luck!”

“I wasn’t laughin’ at the name, I swear! I was laughin’ at myself.”

“Yeah, you’re a real party. Let’s go.” He sighed, walking up to the front desk. “Hi, I’m here to pick up to go please.” He said with a smile. 

“Sure, did you call in advance?” The man asked, flipping open the notebook of names. 

“Yes, I did.” 

“Alright, give me your name.” 

“Well, I’ll be.” Michael said, trying to think of a diversion to get the host’s attention so Ray could look at the book and pick a name. “Is that the president?” He squinted. Of course, the host looked back to where Michael was looking. Ray turned his head and looked at the lists of names, picking the coolest one out of the bunch he saw. 

“No, that’s not the president. That man is blonde.”

“Oh, my mistake.” Michael shook his head, tapping on his glasses lenses. “These are an old prescription. My newer pair has broken. Isn’t that such a shame? Gosh, frame was pristine too. A real gorgeous pair of binoculars, truly. You wouldn't believe when I told you the frame only cost me a measly ten bucks.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” The man said with fake condolences. “Name?”

“Iverson.” Ray said confidently. 

“Alright, Mr. and Mr. Iverson why don’t you go have a seat in the waiting room and you’ll be called when you’re food is ready to be picked up.”

“Alright, but when you call our name, could you just say Raymond?” 

“Very well.”

“Thank you.” Ray said, walking to the secluded room with Michael. 

“Why your name?”

“Just in case the Iversons come to get their food. How weird would it be if we both went up at the same time.”

“You’ve got a point.” Michael sighed, relaxing against the seat. 

“He thinks we’re a couple.” Ray snorted. “He said Mr. and Mr.” 

“Just go with it. Tonight we’re married.” He laughed. “It’s not funny to make fun.”

“No, I’m not making fun of husbands. Two of my best friends are gay, for crying out loud. I’m laughing at you.” 

“Me? Why?”

“Before we came in you said that us and _the runts_ needed a quiet night in. Now here we are, a married couple waiting for Italian.”

“Oh, can it.” He waved his hand. “Our runts are Frank and Gee.” He said, matter of factly. 

“Sure. But I bet -”

“Raymond!” A woman yelled into the room. 

The two stood up and walked briskly to the counter. Taking three paper bags into their arms. They remained calm, not letting the confusion and emotion come across their face and look suspicious. There were three filled bags waiting for them. They hadn’t anticipated this much food. But they were good at improvising. Good at seeming like they were supposed to be doing what they were doing. Michael took one and Ray took two. They left quickly, looking suspicious anyways to the suits and ties and fancy dresses that were swarming the establishment. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Iverson?” The man at the reception desk asked as they were passing again to leave. 

“Yeah?” Michael answered, Ray with his body halfway through the door. Michael took a few steps closer to the desk. 

“How is it possible that these two people are here to pick up the order you have in hand?” He said, condescendingly. 

“Oh, yes, it’s entirely possible.” He pushed his glasses up as they slipped a bit. He nodded to the couple. “Hello Mrs., Mr. Iverson. I’m Michael, nice to meet you.” He stuck out one of his hands. Neither of them took it to shake. “Very well, then. Anyway,” He cleared his throat. “I’m not Mr. Iverson. And neither is Ray over there. I’m Way, he’s Toro. But we’re both hungry so, uh… later gator.” Michael said, turning to leave.

“God, let’s fucking go, nosebleed! You’re such an ass.” Ray huffed as they started to run from security that had bolted from the doors as Michael escaped. “Always have to rock the boat.”

“Don’t be such a square. I like to have fun.”

“Oh, can it!” He said, nearly hysterical. “Every time! Every  _ fucking  _ time!”

“You’re not having fun?” Michael said dashing into an alleyway, Ray close behind. He looked over his shoulder, the guard still running after them. 

“If these bags weren’t so hot I’d be on cloud 9, Mikes.” He said sarcastically. “You know, you don’t have to make a scene every time we commit a crime. Did you forget jail is a thing? Did you forget theft is illegal? Did you fucking forget we’re  _ criminals _ ?!”

“Cool, it!” Michael panted. He was starting to get out of breath. “How could I forget? Don’t be ridiculous, Raymond. We won’t get caught. It’s more fun to cause a scene, isn’t it?”

“If my hands weren’t full and we weren’t running from the law, I swear I’d about smack you in the head now.” Ray complained. 

“I’d deserve it.” Michael nodded, understandingly. 

“Split up here, go around and meet me in front of the corner store.” Ray said as they were coming up to the end of an alley. “There’s only one. Out of shape. Can’t catch us both.”

“The one with the hot chocolate machines?”

“That’s the one.” Ray confirmed. 

“Alright, don’t get caught.” 

“Don’t get arrested.” 

They went into different directions at the end of the alley. Ray went left and Michael right. Ray looked over his shoulder and sure enough, the guard was a couple meters behind him. He wondered how, more often than not, he was being chased by law when he and Michael split. He blamed it on the fact that he was usually carrying more contraband than Michael. He hopped over a collection of garbage bags and turned right at the street, going inside of the first store he saw. 

“Do you guys have a bathroom? I’ll buy something.” Ray said, breathing heavy. 

“Sure, over there.” The girl sitting at the register pointed, not looking up from her magazine. 

Ray went into the bathroom and closed the door, listening and waiting. The door beeped as the man chasing him came through. His chest rising and falling a little faster than normal. But other than that, he didn’t look very fatigued.

“Did a man come in here just now?” He asked. 

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Sweetheart, I need you to think real hard for me right now. This is serious.” She looked over the rim of her glasses into his eyes. “Did you, or did you not see a man come into here?” 

“Think real hard about _this_ : Buy something or get out, freak. I’ll call the real police, rent-a-cop.” She said, looking back down at her magazine.

“Alright, alright.” He said, turning to leave. “Don’t have to be so hostile.”

Ray counted to one hundred, waiting until it was safe enough to leave. Once he reached one hundred, he left the bathroom. 

“You gonna buy something? I think I just saved your ass.” She said, not looking.

“Uh, pack of cigarettes?”

“None here, man.” She laughed. “What are you from, two hundred years in the past? No ones bought cigarettes since 2025.”

“Yeah, alright.” He said. His chest burned too much to joke around. “Just a snack box.” He said pulling cash from his pocket. 

“$20.” She said. 

“Damn, cleaning me out.” He mumbled, handing over the cash. “Thanks for saving my ass.”

“It’s whatever.” She sighed. It wasn’t uncommon at this point for her to lie to people about other people hiding in the store. 

Ray jogged over to the corner store further down the sidewalk. Michael was lingering, a cigarette in his mouth. He held his hand out, silently asking for one. Michael lit another cigarette and handed it to him. He took a deep puff and they both started walking back to the subway station, just wanting to get back home. 

“Sorry for causing scenes all the time.” Michael said. 

“You’re not sorry.”

“No, but I am sorry it gets you so worked up.”

“I just don’t want us to get caught is all.” Ray mumbled, tapping the ash off the end of his cigarette. “Last time they got us those bastards stomped you till they ruined your wrist.” He’d recalled the memory. Michael was fourteen, Ray fifteen. Committing petty theft. 

“It’s all healed. Doc wrapped it up. Left it for a couple weeks. No surgery, no nothin’.” He shrugged. “It was no big deal, man.”

“It was my fault. Feel guilty every time I see it.” His eyes fell to the small scar on his arm. The skin had split open after the cop had brought his foot down onto Michael’s arm for the hundredth time. 

“Was my fault. I was the one screaming my name, announcing I had taken the fucking bottle. Didn’t run fast enough, I guess.” He laughed at the memory now even though the edge was still raw. 

“It’s not funny.” Ray said, beginning to laugh. He thought about how much hell he’d given the cops who were holding him against the car as he watched Michael get bashed. It hurt, but he was glad he resisted so much. 

“Remember the cells? Fuckin’ pigs didn’t believe my arm was fucked.” He laughed louder. “Fuckers waited till my wrist was the size of a softball to let me out. Mom was mad.”

“Remember Gerard? After he’d heard the story.” He chuckled. “Fucking strong, that one.” The memory of Gerard bolting from the front door and attacking Ray on their lawn was still crystal clear. “He loves you… a whole lot.” He touched his face, half expecting his eyes, nose, and jaw to still be raw and sore. 

“I know. Enough to beat your entire face to a pulp.” He shoved him a little. 

_ - _

“Got it!” Ray said as he came down the basement stairs. “Nosebleed and I worked hard for-” He stopped yelling once he saw a woman who he assumed was Frank’s mom looking up at them. “Oh, hi ma’am. Sorry for yelling.”

“That’s alright. I don’t think we’ve met?” She said, applying pressure to Frank’s thighs while Gerard held Frank’s hand. He could see the stains on his face from dried tears.  _ Must’ve hurt him a lot. _

“No, I don't believe I've had the pleasure. I’m Raymond- Toro, call me Ray.” He smiled, setting the food down on Frank’s desk. He held out his hand. “I’m sure Frank told you this was all my fault.”

“Oh, he told me the story. But I don’t think it’s your fault, Ray.” She shook his hand. “Frank and his pride.” She sighed, holding her hand out to Michael. “Hello, darling.”

“Hello, nice to meet you.” He smiled. “I’m Michael. Gerard’s brother.” 

“Oh, really?” She said, looking at Gerard’s face and trying to match their features. “Huh, I would've never guessed, but you two look a lot similar now that I know.”

“We get that a lot.” He laughed lightly. “Is Frank going to be okay?”

“Yes, he’ll be fine.” She huffed and poked a finger into his thigh. He grunted and squeezed Gerard’s hand. 

“Ouch, ouch, ouch.” Gerard said, petting Frank’s hair in hopes to relieve him enough to get him to let go. 

“He’s done this too many times before believe it or not.” She laughed. “When he was twelve, he wanted to impress someone and tried to reach 60mph on the treadmill. He only made it to 45 and tore his legs up worse than they are now. He couldn’t walk for six weeks. Had to do physical therapy.”

“Jesus, Frank.” Michael said in disbelief.

“Yes, well, I’ll leave you boys. Goodnight, I’ve got work tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.” The four said in almost-unison. 

Michael started looking through the food. He almost forgot they didn’t know what was inside. He pulled out the containers and forks. 

“What’d you get?”

“Um…” He studied the dishes. “Eggplant parmesan… baked ziti…. What is… chicken alfredo it looks like, and some vegetables.”

“Nice, hand me the ziti.” Frank grinned. “Where’d you get it from?”

“Me and Mikes picked up someone elses take out from- where was it?”

“Sicily… something.” Michael shrugged, fettuccine noodles already in his mouth. 

“Anyways, we looked forever. Finally we get someone else's takeout. And got chased by the security guard.” Ray said it like it was nothing, picking up the eggplant parmesan. 

Frank laughed as he and Gerard continued to pick pasta out of the dish together. Michael offered to switch with them after a while and they did. Ray switched with Michael and when he had enough, Michael switched with Frank and Gerard again. Ray went in for the vegetables and after picking around at some, he offered them to Frank. He scrunched his nose and shook his head profusely. Michael held his hand out and took the dish. He picked some steamed broccoli out and started eating it. He didn’t think it was half bad, enjoyed it actually. 

Once the dishes were empty, the boys were laid around the room, unable to move. Frank and Gerard on the bed. Gerard laid with his head pressed into the side of Frank’s torso. Already fast asleep. Michael and Ray laid on the floor, fighting the urge to sleep. Their eyes glued to the huge television and watched the stream of entertainment, waiting for the feeling of extreme fullness to pass. 

“You wanna just sleep here, guys?” Frank offered, yawning. “You look really tired to be driving home.”

“Could we?” Michael asked.  

“Thaddeus,” Frank said. “Give Ray and Michael a blanket and a pillow.” He yawned again. “You guys okay to sleep on the floor or do you want the bed?” 

“Frank, your legs are fucked.” Ray laughed. The blanket and pillow dropped at his side. “I’m not gonna kick you out of your bed.”

“Yeah, Frank. We’re just happy to be sleeping here.” Michael agreed. “Too generous.” 

“Lights.” Frank mumbled and the lights shut off. “Goodnight guys.” He told them. “Oh, by the way. When you guys leave in the morning your bodies might feel sick for a little bit. A couple minutes. Gerard knows more about it than I do.”

“Well, fuck Frank!” Michael said, feeling shocked. “Way to be subtle.”

“Better you know now than not at all.” 

“He’s right.” Ray said, seemingly unphased by what Frank said. “‘Night nosebleed. ‘Night Frank. ‘Night Gerard.” He yawned and turned on his side.

-

Frank laid on his back with his head on Gerard’s legs. Gerard sat looking over the ledge of the roof where they had been for their first kiss. His hand rested under his chin, his elbow pressed into the concrete edge. He had carried Frank on his back to the subway and through the street to get here. He didn’t mind, though. Frank was smaller than him and lighter. Though he teased Frank as if it was tough, he actually liked carrying him around. No one else in public cared enough to say anything or even look at them sideways. Gerard felt like he belonged here. 

“I should live here.” He said. “With you.” His warm breath swirled in the air, freezing in the cold. “Don’t you think?”

“I really want you to.” Frank said, crumbling the edges of a dead leaf that had floated far through the forest and into the city. “But you get sick being here too long. I couldn’t ask you to do that. I couldn’t bear seeing you in pain, Gerard.”

“I don’t care if it hurts, Frank.” He sighed. “I’ll just go through every once in a while to get rid of the feeling. I can’t stand not being with you.”

“You would do that?” Frank looked up at him. “You don’t have to, I could go live in your time. I’ll get over the tiredness, I’m sure.”

“I can’t live with you in my time, Frank.” Gerard started running his fingers through Frank’s hair. “We couldn't be so open. We would always be hiding something from someone to just keep safe.” He sighed. “I even have to hide our photo booth pictures. You can just pin yours on your wall. Put them in your wallet. Tape them to your forehead.”

Frank thought for a second, tracing his fingers around Gerard’s thigh. “We could try it. But if it hurts you too much, you have to promise to tell me.”

“I promise!” Gerard said. “I promise, if I’m in pain, I’ll tell you.”

“You wanna get our own place?” Frank asked after a quiet moment. He shivered a bit from the cold and upped the warm aura. “After we see if you could handle my time?”

“You could take the machine with you?” Gerard asked. “I love you, Frank. But I couldn’t leave Mikey behind. Ray too.”

“I know. I can take it. I just have to be delicate with it.” Frank reached up and stroked his chin. “And who’s to say once Mikey catches word of this he’s not gonna pack up and live here too?”

“Yeah, that sounds like him.” Gerard agreed. “Could we have kids here?”

“Yeah. We could.” Frank nodded. “They take both of our sperm and- it’s really weird- they can like mash it together and put it in a holding egg and into an incubator to let it grow. And it’ll look like us.”

“That sounds… gross.” Gerard thought about it. “But actually I really would want to do that with you. We wouldn’t have to adopt.”

“No, we wouldn’t.”

“But could we?”

“Well, how many kids do you want?” Frank asked, taken aback a bit.

“Maybe three.” Gerard shrugged. “Four…” He mumbled.

“Four kids?”

“Yeah, Frank! Think about it. Four of our little people… each half of us running around. Growing up. We’d get to raise them. They’d look like  _ us _ . Gosh, if they had your nose... Maybe even five or six.”

“In our house.” Frank smiled at the sky. Gerard smiled at the traffic passing down on the street. “We could be forever.” 

“Forever.” Gerard repeated. 

They both felt a warm calmness settle in the stomachs. The feeling of security, they figured. Gerard imagined what their kids could look like. Pointed or rounded noses. His ears with Frank’s eyes. Frank’s hair color with Gerard’s lip shape. He had come to accept the fact that he’d never have kids. Never even be able to adopt. But it wasn’t the case anymore. He started to think of names. Dexter, James, Clyde, Arabella, Frank Jr., Carla, Alice, Damian...

“You wanna marry me?” Frank blurted. 

“What, now?”

“Not now. I can’t even walk.” He began fidgeting with the buttons on Gerard’s shirt. 

“Then when?”

“Does it matter?” Frank guided his finger around his skin. Tracing around his chin, up his jaw, and then he poked him in between the eyebrows. 

“No, it doesn’t matter.” He poked him back between his eyebrows. “ _ You _ want to marry me?”

“I want to marry you.”

“Yes.” Gerard smiled, feeling tears began to prick at the back of his eyes. 

“Yes?”

“Yes! I’ll marry you.”

“Oh, Gerard.” He sat up. He tried to ignore the pain as he pulled his legs forward as he slid his waist closer to him. He pressed his lips to his. 

“Soon? Shall we do it soon?” He asked, their lips still touching. 

“Yes! As soon as I can walk again we’ll start planning.” He smiled and accidentally clicked their teeth together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! i mean it from the bottom of my heart, i appreciate it so so much!!


	11. Eleven.

Frank blinked hard. Hard enough to make his eyes water and dampen the roots of his eyelashes. The image in front of him hadn’t changed. He blinked fast, the machine staring at him in stop motion. His limbs felt stuck. His legs under him wouldn’t go forward. His hands refused to reach out. But his eyes burned. Hot pins poked through from the back of his eyeball. A dull ache worked in his chest until his heart was throbbing with it. His stomach was tied into knots and he felt like he was going to throw up. His knees gave out under him and his legs, still sore, hit the ground.

The black that had once swirled around had dripped out and been replaced with nothing. And his worst fear was staring him in the face. It was broken. The machine wouldn't turn on. He felt hot streams running down his face and he felt his chest get tight. There was a loud groan that manifested from his rib cage and climbed out through his mouth as a sob. Then he was weeping, holding his chest as his heart felt it was going to climb out. His whole body hurt. Wracked with a pain he had never felt, never considered was real. He thought he was going to die.

“Mom?” He called out, knowing she had left for work a half hour ago. “Dad?” He had missed him by twenty minutes. “Mom!” He wept out. “Gerard? Can you hear me?” He spoke softly as he crawled to the machine.

Frank opened the back door, still twitching with sobs. He saw a few wires disconnected and put them back. Nothing happened. He checked the lights, magnets, uranium, electricity, everything. He sat back on his legs and looked at the ceiling, wishing God would talk to him. He had spent so much time in the past he came to know the guy. Didn't like him too much. But he did like Jesus.

“Jesus?” He spoke to the ceiling, hoping his voice would carry to the sky. “I’m not gonna ask you to fix this, if you’re listening. But… I guess I would like if you could tell me what’s wrong? Help me figure it out? I know we don’t know each other very well, but I’ve come to learn about you. I think if you could help me, you would. Wouldn't you?” He sighed and rubbed at his pink nose. “Oh, anyway, if you could spare a second to help me figure out what’s wrong, I wouldn’t commit a sin for a whole year. I promise I’d do anything you wanted. I just wanna get back to Gerard.” He felt himself start to cry again. “Oh well, thanks for listening, Jesus. If you were.”

He picked up the motherboard and studied it, seeing if anything got damaged. He opened the back again and connected the wires to the circuit board again in different positions with different functions this time, trying desperately to get something- anything to happen. He screwed in a small screw to close the machine and try to get it working again. With tears nonstop pricking at his eyes he stood up and began pushing buttons again.

“One, five, eight, two, seven, three, four.” He entered the code, wiping his face on his sleeve. The machine started up noisily, something clunking in the back. A broken fan most likely.

He took his small screwdrivers from his back pocket and opened the hatch in the back, revealing fans. He took off a broken wing and picked out the crushed plastic. From the leftover piece pile, he picked out another fan wing and replaced it. Pushed it with his finger and watched it spin around. He closed it and screwed it back up.

He regretted sending Gerard home in the night. But he had his exams to take. He knew how important the grades were to him. Frank didn’t want him to compromise that to just get a few extra hours with him. But now as he stare at the other side of the wall, he wished he would have just enjoyed the moment. Allowed Gerard to stay a little longer. But he wouldn’t let the guilt throw him into apathy. He would fix the machine if it was the last thing he did. He was determined to meet with Gerard again. Or at least try until he took his last breath.

-

Gerard was practically skipping through the trees. Though the cold air hurt to breath so heavily, he ran anyways. He had finished his exams. Gotten nearly a perfect score on each of them. His full chunky round luggage bag hit against his leg as he ran. He had packed when he got home. Three pairs of day clothes. Two pairs of pajamas. Five of his favorite vinyls. And stolen Michael’s favorite book, which also happened to be his favorite book that Michael originally had stolen first. Socks, shoes, underwear, a toothbrush, a comb, and his pomade. He told his mother nothing. Told michael not to worry if he was gone for a while. Michael sighed as he laid on his unmade bed. ‘ _It’s Frank, isn’t it?_ ’ He said quietly so their mother wouldn’t hear. Gerard only nodded once and went downstairs for breakfast.

Of course he had been hesitant to leave. It would be embarrassing for his parents to have a runaway son, but what would he possibly tell them? ‘ _Goodbye Mother, goodbye Father. I'm going to the future to live with my fiance. Who also happens to be frank. See you at the wedding if you wouldn’t prefer me dead. I’ll send you a postcard.’_ He felt a twist on his heart and slowed down to a jog. The cave came into view and he went down inside.

He put his arm out to go into Frank’s room, but only felt the hard coolness of rock against his fingertips. His heart dropped straight off a diving board and into his stomach acid. He felt along the whole cave wall frantically. But never touched the opening. He felt the other sides of the cave, from the dirt ground to the rooftop. No opening, only hard, cool rock. The cold nipped at his face, but his whole body felt hot with panic. Tears fell from his eyes in thick, heavy drops and burned against his freezing face.

He left the cave and decided to sit at the dock. He dropped his luggage down on the wooden planks and sat next to it, pulling his thick coat closer to his body. He cried and dropped rocks into the slushy water. Silently, he wished he had brought a hat. Gerard checked his watch. 3:41pm. He would go back at 4:41pm. The portal, he decided, would be back and working in an hours time. Frank would’ve figured something out by now.

Frank. Gerard wondered what he was doing at this moment. He hoped he had still been asleep. Not yet to find the past closed. It was painful to imagine the pain Frank was bound to feel once he found it. He let out a few involuntary whimpers as he imagined Frank in pain. But he knew it would be necessary to face as he found the machine. He would fix it, Gerard told himself. He dropped his last rock into the water he dared not touch.

Gerard checked his watch again. 4:03pm. The second-hand ticked and he felt a flash in his heart. The time was coming soon. What if he was faced with an empty wall again? He didn’t think he could handle the pain a second time. But if it were fixed, he would go through. He would hug Frank. They would drink a hot drink, lay in his bed for some time close to each other. Gerard wanted a nap. He would unpack his clothes and lay them in the drawers Frank had emptied for him. Then they would take a walk around the city and look for places to live for now. Walk around the suburbs and see places to live in the future. Then they’d go back to his home, eat fruit, and sleep in the same bed with no time restrictions.

He laid on the dock and looked up at the gray sky. Was God watching? He had always been told God could see everything he did. Everything he was doing. Everything he would do. Did God know that Gerard was time traveling to be with his same sex partner. Was that a sin? A double sin? Gerard didn’t know. But he liked to imagine a God that hadn’t been tainted by the local men and women that deciphered age old text and decided what it meant without consulting the rest of us.

He liked to imagine a God that helped him get back to Frank. That opened up the portal again at 4:41pm. That let them spend every Christmas together. Thanksgiving, Halloween, and all the rest. That allowed him to leave to go have children with Frank. He closed his eyes and imagined their children. Their perfect little, angel faced children. All delightful, clever, charming, curious, perfect children. He laughed as he imagined the problems he and Frank would have to face raising them. Dressing them, feeding them, getting them to brush their teeth and make their beds.

He opened his eyes and looked at the clouds. Decided the pearly gates sat just behind the heavy clouds. God too. His guardian angel lying on a cloud, waiting for his next move. Probably loathing the fact he was sitting in the freezing weather, begging for his third cold this season. He wished they were there, that they could help him. But he sat up and looked at his watched. 4:46pm. Decided God and his guardian angel were most likely playing tennis, paying no mind to Gerard.

He ran his stiff fingers along the walls. Going around the whole cave twice. He felt nothing. No openings. No dents. No cracks. No warmth. No sign of Frank. Only cold, hard, unforgiving stone. He took his flashlight from his luggage bag and clicked it on. He searched with his eyes again. Seeing nothing at all. He felt himself begin to cry again and he sat on the ground, his back pressed against the wall where the portal should be.

He pulled Frank’s shirt from his luggage. He pulled his own clothes from his body. Put the shirt on, put on a long sleeve thermal shirt. His button up again, then his coat again. He put on another pair of socks and put his shoes back on. Gerard hoped he wouldn’t freeze being out so long. It would sure be a pain for Frank to pull his frozen body through and have to thaw him.

Gerard took he and Michael’s favorite book from the bag and decided to read it out loud. He shined the flashlight on it and began reading out loud.

“The Old Man and the Sea. Ernest Hemingway.” He opened the cover. _“He_ _was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. In the first forty days a boy had been with him. But after forty days without a fish the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao , which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week. It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast. The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat.”_

-

Frank sat with his head against the frame of the machine and scribbled circles on a piece of paper. He couldn't figure what to do. But he knew he had to do something. An hour had passed and he still wanted his mom. It irked him how needy he was being. He had never wanted her so much. Now it made sense in the old movies when the protagonist was hurt badly or about to be hurt badly and called out for his mommy.

He heard a muffled sound from behind his head and turned quickly. Expecting to see black, but he only saw the wall. He stuck his head through anyways, trying to get closer to the sound. When his ears were directly in the middle, he could hear Gerard’s voice. It was unmistakable. But it was muffled. It sounded like he was talking through an old fashioned walkie-talkie. Mostly static, and nearly impossible to decipher the exact message. But he could hear words. _He had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish._ He had said. He was telling a story.

Frank laid in the machine with his ears in the middle, catching the static noise. Listening to Gerard tell the story. Hearing his voice calmed him down and allowed his mind to clear of most fog and accept intelligent thought again. Though he knew the other side most likely had no receiver, he figured it couldn’t hurt to try to reach out with his own voice. He waited until Gerard had stopped talking.

 _“_ _The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck. The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert.”_ He had paused.

“Gerard, can you hear me?” Frank spoke more pitiful than he had wanted. “Are you reading a book? It’s so nice to hear your voice. Gives me a clearer head to think. I’m gonna fix it, you know. Please tell me if you can hear me. How d-”

 _"Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated.”_ Gerard continued reading. His voice unchanged.

Frank decided Gerard couldn’t hear him. And it stabbed him in the heart. Over and over and over again. With every word Gerard spoke through the static the dagger was pressed in deeper. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he began to cry all over again. He focused on the story. Wanted Gerard to know he had heard him if they were to meet again. Needed to remember the story.

 _“The successful fishermen of that day were already in and had butchered their marlin out and carried them laid full length across two planks, with two men staggering at the end of each plank, to the fish house where they waited for the ice truck to carry them to the market in Havana. Those who had caught sharks had taken them to the shark factory on the other side of the cove where they were hoisted on a block and tackle, their livers removed, their fins cut off and their hides skinned out and their flesh cut into strips for salting.”_ He had took another long pause.

“Is this that story of the old fisherman?” Frank asked, pretending his voice reached Gerard. “The one you mentioned a while back? Your favorite?” He sighed out a shaky breath.

 _“When the wind was in the east a smell came across the harbour from the shark factory; but today there was only the faint edge of the odour because the wind had backed into the north and then dropped off and it was pleasant and sunny on the Terrace.”_ Gerard still couldn’t hear him, but continued through the book. Not knowing if Frank could hear him. He hoped he could and listened close for any sign of his voice.

-

 

Gerard woke up, the faint smell of rain  leaking into his head. He could see snow falling lightly at the opening of the cave. His flashlight had fallen face first onto the ground and shone light into the dirt. He packed his book and flashlight into the round suitcase and checked once again for the portal. Still gone, still no sign of it.

He left the cave and checked his watch in the sunlight. 5:21am. First day of winter break. Mom and Dad would still be asleep. Dad’s alarm clock would go off in nine minutes. He would smash it quiet and mom would drag herself from bed and take a shower. Dress herself, take her hair out of her rollers, apply her makeup and watch television until about eight am. When she would cook breakfast. Michael won’t leave bed until he’s dragged out. Ray won’t leave until Michael drags him out. Gerard was going to take a bottle of scotch from his father’s cabinet and drink himself to sleep, he decided.

The road came into view and he followed it until he reached his home. The silent house stared back at him, inviting him inside. He felt the ache in the back of his throat as sickness was about to overcome him. He didn't have Frank to slip him a magic pill this time. He went inside and shut the door, not bothering to hold the hinge to keep it from squeaking. Let his father get up. Let him find out what his oldest son has _actually_ been up to. The worst punishment he could decide to give him wouldn't hurt half as much as he was hurting right now.

He took a full bottle of scotch from the cabinet and held it in his free hand. He went to his room. His mother was taking a shower behind the locked bathroom door, just as he expected. He took his clothes from his luggage and stuffed them back in the drawers. Dropped his shoes in the closet. His pomade and toothbrush onto the nightstand. And slid his bag under his bed along with the bottle of scotch. He undressed and put pajamas on his cold body. He stared at himself in his oval mirror hanging on the wall. Hardly recognizing himself. He looked sad.

Gerard sighed and fell onto his bed. He stared at the ceiling and began to silently cry. Tears fell from the edge of his eyes and wet his pillow. Some seeped into his hairline, but he didn’t move. He listened closely to his mother’s morning routine. The shower was off and he assumed she was dressing. She left to her bedroom to apply her makeup. He listened to the soft clicks and pats of her products. It felt like an eternity. And he felt like he was waiting for her to come help him. Like a child. It made him feel more helpless and he began to cry a bit more loudly. Which embarrassed him. As he began to snivel, he was increasingly more thankful his father was in an alcohol-induced slumber.   

“Gerard? Honey?” She asked, removing her final hot roller from her hair. “Oh, dear.” She said, rushing to his bedside. She pulled his chair and sat it next to him. She set her roller down and clicked his lamp on, revealing his wet, puffy face.

“Leave it off, please mom.” He begged. His voice shook and crack. He let out a quiet sob as he felt the reality of the situation hit him. He couldn’t even tell her exactly why he was so upset.

“Baby, baby what’s wrong?” She held his head. “Tell me, come on.” She petted his hair. “You didn’t come home last night, I thought you’d gone to Frank’s. Michael said you probably had. Does that have anything to do with this?”

“Yeah.” He cried, holding onto her hand desperately. He held it against his face as he cried. “Oh, mother it’s so awful.” He cried out, the words breaking into pieces. He sat up and she moved to his bed, sitting next to him and holding him and he wept.

“Speak to me, honey. I’m here.” She cooed to him and rocked them back and forth softly.

“He’s gone, mom.” He whispered. “He’s gone and I didn’t get a say. He didn’t even get a say. Neither of us knew. I was going to spend the night. But he wasn't there.”

“He’s left town?”

“Yes.” He cried. “Frank’s gone, I have no clue how to get to him. He’s so important to me, Mom. You don’t understand. It hurts so bad.”

“Baby,” She took a quick breath. “I’m going to ask you a question. Be honest with me.”

“I already know what you’re gonna ask.” He mumbled. “And the answer is yes.”

“I know, honey. I’ve known.” She patted his head softly and continued rocking.

“Michael knows too. Don’t tell Dad.” Gerard said half heartedly. “Please.”

“I won’t, dear.” She kissed the top of his head. “What am I going to do with you? Look at you. You’re a mess, Gerard.” She pushed him into a sitting position and looked at his face in the blue morning light. “So sad, baby.” She said as her eyes began to water.

“I’m sorry, Mom.” He whispered, unable to stop crying. “But I can’t stop being hurt. I don’t quite know what I’m going to do about it if I’m being honest. I think my insides are going to hurt forever. I think I’m going to die.”

“You won’t die, honey.” She patted his cheek and wiped his tears. “It’s heartache. I felt it too when I was your age. I thought it would never end.”

“Did it ever end?”

“No.” She breathed out. “It didn’t end. But it faded away. I’m not sad about it anymore. It took me a long time and so much happiness to get over it. But I got over it. And you will too.”

“What if nothing else can make me happy.” He thought of the kids. Thought of the wedding. “I can’t do it without him, Mom.”

“So you think, darling.” She stood up and began folding the clothes that were hanging sloppily from his drawers. “So you think.”

Gerard laid back in his bed and closed his eyes, silent tears still dripping down. His head felt like it was seconds away from imploding. And he was grateful for the physical pain. He could think of it for a second and not remember. Up until the memory of Frank smashed into the back of his eyelids and he had to open his eyes and stare at the wall. He listened to the sounds of his mother organizing his shirts hanging in the closet. They didn’t need to be organized, but she didn’t know what to do with her hands.

“Mom?” Gerard said childishly.

“Yes, darling?”

“Why does Mikes commit crime? Steal? Is he upset? Is he hurt like me?” He wanted to think of someone other than Frank. Couldn’t stand it.

“No, I don’t think he’s upset or hurt. I think he doesn’t know what to do with himself.” She sighed. “The boy’s always been so clever. Gosh, the both of you. Always coming up with something elaborate and genius. The energy has to go somewhere. You put it all towards school. Towards keeping everything in your life… in order.”

“And Mikey?”

“The Devil finds work for idle hands.” She sighed. "He’s put his energy the opposite way. Instead of keeping high grades or a tidy room, he likes to see how far he can push the world until it ends.”

“The world’s ended today.” Gerard mumbled.

“No, you think it has. But look out the window.” She pointed. “Sun has risen, clouds are out, the snow is collecting in the driveway. Mikey is snoring in the room next to us though he’s got nothing to be tired about. And your father is sleeping through a hangover.”

“It feels like my world has ended. Like my life is over. All my plans… ruined.”

“Life goes on. Including yours. And all those around you. Your father will wake up and have a bit of the hair of the dog that bit him. Michael will go out and steal something. I will cook three meals. And you will mope around the house and probably eat none of my meals.”

Gerard put his face into the pillow and let more tears soak into puddles against the fabric in the quiet room. His mother began to sweep his floor with the broom left in the corner. Slowly but diligently she swiped the dust into a pile. Got to all the corners and did the best she could under his furniture. She swept the small dust pile into the pan and dumped it into the small garbage can Gerard had next to his desk. She organized the papers on his desk. Putting them into piles and stacking them on each other. Straightening his textbooks. His novels. And his comic books. She sighed with content as she looked around and saw the room perfect.

She leaned down and kissed him on the temple. His eyes were open and he stared at the wall. She swiped the bottle of scotch he had poorly hidden and tucked him in. She rubbed her hand along his arm until his eyelids got heavy with fatigue. But he held them open.

“Honey?”

“Hm?”

“You’ve got to close your eyes to sleep. What is it? Are you seeing him on the other side?”

“Yes.”

“Embrace it. Look at him until you dream of him. Let yourself be happy in your unconscious.” She stood up to leave. “Michael and I will come around every once in awhile to make sure you’re doing alright. Or at least the best you can be.”

“Thanks Mom.”

“Oh, and honey?” She said as she began to leave the room. “No scotch.”

“Okay.” He closed his eyes and hoped Frank would climb into his dreams. "No scotch, mom."

-

Frank woke up with his head still in the machine frame. He sat up groggily and remembered what had happened to him. What had happened to his fiance. He held his head, held his chest, hunched over in pain as it all flooded back to him. He climbed up the basement stairs. His mother was sat on the couch, staring at a movie playing in front of her.

“Hey, baby.” She said. Then she saw him. Bloodshot, cloudy eyes with tears collecting. Arms wrapped around himself and hunched over. She rushed to him. “What’s the matter?” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“Oh, mom.” He cried out, beginning to sob almost immediately.

“Tell me what’s the matter.” He held onto him and rubbed at his back. He clung to her, his hands gripping hard at the back of her workplace clothing.

“Gerard… my boyfriend.” He cried out, his whole body shaking. “Mama, he’s gone.” His legs felt weak again and he couldn’t bear to stand. He almost fell, but his mom caught him and pulled him over to the couch.

“What happened?” She sat down, his head falling into her lap. He held onto her arm roughly. His fingertips held tightly onto her skin and she had to hold back tears. She hadn’t seen him this desperate since he’d lost his stuffed elephant on the train when he was two.

“My space machine. Was a time machine.” He sniveled. “He came from 1956. I love him, Mom.” He cried. “God, I love him. I love him. And he’s gone. The machine’s broken.”

“Come on, bunny.” She held his head, maternal instinct filling her to the brim. She wanted only to protect him, wanted to end what was hurting him. But how do you end heartache? “You say the machine’s broken?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve got all your notes, right?”

“Yes, mama.” He cried like a child. Holding onto her.

“Rebuild. You did it once, you’re so smart, you can do it again, no problem.” She combed her fingers through his hair. “Baby, I’m sure Gerard’s just _searching_ for a way back to you. You’re such a little genius, there’s nothing stopping you from doing it a second time.”

“Mom, it’s going to take me so, so long.”

“You love him?”

“Yes. More than life itself.”

“Then time is of no issue, baby.” She pulled his body closer, him looking smaller than ever. “Heartbreak is a bitch with sharp teeth and she’s gonna hurt you and rip at you. No doubt about it. But she can’t stop you.”

"It feels like there's no end. I think I'm gonna die because of this."

"Yeah, you'll feel like that for a while." She wiped at his wet eyes. "Good news is: it never lasts forever. Heartache goes away. You're going to be okay. You're going to fix your machine and you'll see Gerard again, okay?"

"You think so?"

"I know so, baby." She nodded. 

Frank closed his eyes and listened to the sounds around him. He could hear his mother breathing. The beat of his heart pulsed in his throbbing head. The tick of the clock on the wall. The dialogue of the drama movie Mom was watching. The Highest Waterfall. He watched it before. He loved it. He could see the screenplay in his head as he listened to the lines spoken. It calmed him a bit and he began to feel his body relax. His mind cleared.

“Mom?”

“Frank?”

“Sorry for crying on your nice clothes.”

“Don’t apologize for that, bunny. It’s nothing. Never be sorry for crying.”

“I’m sorry for making you late to work. It’s seven fifteen now.”

“They can wait. I have something more important to do.” She turned the volume of the movie up and patted Frank’s head. “What do you say I take the day off. You and I both. We can do whatever we want. Time stops for us today.”

“Okay.” He said, letting out a shaky breath.

The tears had stopped, but he still felt the jarring sadness bouncing off his ribs and around his torso like a loose bullet. Tearing everything in its path. He closed his eyes and thought of Gerard. Thought of their future together. Being able to finally see him again.


	12. Twelve.

Gerard had set himself a second living place in the cave. He sat there all day, skipping as many days of school as he could afford to. He wrote with a flashlight and dull pencil on paper for hours on end, trying his best to remember how Frank had constructed his machine. If he tried hard enough, maybe he’d get lucky and be able to make one of his own. There were a few pieces that didn't even exist in his time, like some wires Frank had. He couldn't remember what they were called. But he remembered Frank told him they were a newer model. But Gerard’s wires would have to do. So far, he had completed a blueprint of a frame, fixing the insides as modern as he could. But he still had a ways to go. 

Winter was in its full force now and had been settling for months. It was painful to sit out in such cold, snowy weather, but it was more painful to be without Frank. There were days where it was so cold and the snow was so high, Gerard wasn’t let out of the house. Those days were hard. He’d wear the shirt Frank had given to him under his clothes and try to catch whiffs of his scent. Sometimes, if he was lucky, they’d waft up into his face and he swore he could see Frank’s smile under his eyelids. 

His dreams were filled with him. No matter what he did, his thoughts were always occupied with Frank. He had tried to drink it away. Wasting his father’s liquor stash until he had become suspicious and bought a padlock. He’d come into each of the boys’ rooms one night and scolded them individually. He screamed at Michael, knowing he already did things as bad. But he talked to Gerard. Asked him question after question. Gerard never admitted to it, never fell victim to the interrogations. His scotch bender only lasted the lesser of two weeks. He couldn’t handle the headaches and fogginess from hangovers everyday while he was trying to think. 

He had tried to pass the time, burying himself in as much marijuana as Ray could get him for a couple days. But he had grown tired of it. It made him feel more lonely. Even though the smoke filled him to the brim, it made him feel more empty than he had before. He puffed and puffed until he felt like a cloud. Felt like he was floating away. But sooner or later he landed with an appetite. Substance abuse wasn’t helping any. 

So he had sought out working until his eyes couldn’t focus anymore. Writing everything he could remember down. Becoming suddenly great at math. Spending extra time with his nose buried in any and all science books he could find. He never thought he would be spending so much time in a library. But day in and day out he was there, reading as fast as his eyes could carry the words to his brain. He wrote notes down, anything that seemed important. Gerard would find himself coming in early in the morning and having to be asked to leave at closing time- nine pm. 

Christmas had passed, New Year's too. He spent it in the cave. Counted seconds until midnight as he watched his watch tick. He spoke to the rock, still liking to believe Frank could hear him. He pressed a kiss to the cold stone and went home. Valentine's day was close approaching and he felt like he was drowning in his own sorrow as his classmates and peers handed each other hearts and flowers in preparation for Valentine's day. Playing into tradition. Rightfully so anyways. Most of them had partners, all of them interested in dating each other. But Gerard couldn’t settle for anyone who wasn’t Frank. Couldn’t be interested, no one was like Frank. No one could come close. He felt it in his chest, deep inside, that Frank was what he wanted. And he could do nothing but work to get back to him until they were reunited. 

Ray and Michael were the only ones who knew the truth of what had happened. They spent a lot of time consoling Gerard. At school, Ray would carry Gerard’s books, make sure he ate at lunch, and fix his appearance if he needed it. Ray would never admit it, but it had begun to take a toll on him. He has lost a lot of time to do his schoolwork. He was late to classes more often now, walking Gerard to his.

Sometimes he couldn’t bear to sleep while he knew how much Gerard was hurting. Some nights Ray would go to the cave by himself. He missed Frank. A lot. He had grown to love him and he felt grief like loss. Some nights Gerard would already be there. And Ray would go home. But the nights Gerard wasn’t there, Ray would sit against the stone. Press his back into it until it felt real again. He would talk out loud sometimes, figuring Frank couldn’t hear him, but it still felt nice to get things off his chest. Ray would rather die than admit it, but he cried often for Frank. 

At home, Michael would sit Gerard down at the dinner table, remind him to shower, and walk with him to the cave some nights to rub his back as he sobbed loudly, hands against the solid rock. Neither of them really knew what to do, but they did their best to keep it contained to them. Michael did his best to keep his parents from asking any questions. Though their mother knew, she wouldn’t ever mention it again. She didn’t like the fact that it was the way it was, but she knew she couldn’t control it. She saw Michael taking care of Gerard and let it be. Decided to allow Michael to take it from there. 

But Michael felt sick to his stomach every day he opened his eyes. He knew his brother was sick with heartache. And he knew nothing he could do would fix it. So he could only comfort. Could only hold his head while he puked earthy brown scotch into the porcelain bowl. Could only rub his back while he wept in the woods. He could only do his best to hide it from their dad the best he could. It felt uncontrollable. To have to hide and bury the grief of them both. 

Some nights Michael would go into Gerard’s room. Would climb into his bed and cry there. Whether Gerard was tucked under the sheets or not, it didn’t matter. The nights when he was in the bed were usually better. Gerard would hold Michael’s head and pat him on the shoulder while he cried into Gerard’s mattress. Those nights where he felt the vibration in Michael’s ribs, it brought him back down to earth. It made him realize the hurt he could be causing for being so sad. But he couldn’t help it. 

At Ray’s house, Gerard could tell he was sad too. But he tried to hide it. Gerard could see the wet stains in the pillowcases. He could see the red in his eyes. And knew it wasn’t just from the drugs. He would hug Ray and feel him cling a bit harder and longer than he normally would. Gerard knew he was hurting, but he helped him quietly the best he could. No need to make a big show of it. 

The boys all had a mutual sadness between them. Some nights were worse than others. But each did their best to work on getting the sadness out. Gerard sat in the cave and looked for the way back. Ray went in the icy river and did drugs. Michael cried in his brother’s bed and drank his father’s scotch while reading books cover to cover. It felt like Frank had died. And there could be no closure. 

-

Frank wasn’t so lucky as the boys who had each other. Frank didn’t have anyone. He talked to a few kind strangers on the public transport. Rude strangers more often than not. He did spend a lot of time at the public science center. And he met a few people, but didn’t care much to get to know them. There wasn’t the instant click there was with Gerard, Michael, or Ray. Nothing was the same. No one could compare.  

For Frank, the time was nothing but extra thick supplement drinks and buying the materials from his notes. He took a part time job at Elwen & Ambrosine Flowers just to make enough money on the side to pay for everything. The science department funding had began to run low and it scared him. He didn’t care about the scientists awarding him anymore. It wasn’t about the recognition anymore, it was about getting back to Gerard. The machine needed to be fixed, he couldn’t handle another laborious, lonely month. 

He had completely thrown self care out the window. He had trouble keeping up with eating at the right times. There were supplements that he had thrown down the sink, not being able to bear to eat with the worry in his stomach. If it weren't for Thaddeus, he’d never sleep, shower, or eat. He felt flawlessly enervated, couldn’t bare to think of what his body needed. Though he was exhausted, he still managed to piece together the machine. 

Their dinner reservations were going to go to waste, so he’d given it to Elwen and Ambrosine. He had so much wanted to take Gerard out on a nice night more than anything. But it was also okay to do something nice for someone else. It gave his life a slight hint of happiness so give someone else something. They were thankful and had left the store to him for the rest of the night. He’d locked the door behind them and cried, surrounded by the flowers. 

Though the apathy had ran from his body and boosted his worth ethic, he was still up to his neck in agony of mind. Unable to focus on anything other than Gerard. He had dreamed of him, thought of him all the time. He refused to budge from his mind. Frank couldn’t imagine never seeing him again. Never hearing his voice again. Never smelling his pomade again.

So he worked. Worked until his hands were covered in blisters, punctured, burned, and scraped. He wrapped his wounds and continued, no time to waste complaining about pain. He had ran to the subway, ran to the shops, bought his items in a hurry, ran back to the subway, and ran back to his room. No time to waste. It had taken him long enough to round up each piece he could figure to replace. Now he only had to put it together and keep testing it, waiting for the machine to swirl with black, inviting him back to his love. 

Every night he would lie his head in the frame, looking to hear Gerard. Sometimes he would hear Ray inside. Could recognize his voice. Could hear him smoking. Once every blue moon, Frank would be able to hear him crying. And it scared him. He spoke back, already knowing no one could hear him. Told Ray it was going to be okay. That he was going to go back. One night, Ray had told Frank ‘ _ It feels like you’ve died. _ ’ And it hurt Frank. Cut him deeply. And inspired him to keep working hard.

Gerard would cry a lot to Frank. He would cry until his lungs felt like they were going to melt and drip out of his mouth. On bad nights, Gerard would lie on the ground and cry. He wouldn’t talk much. But if he did, he would only say how much he missed him. On good nights, he would read to him. Sometimes sing new songs he had heard and liked. Frank, of course, would hear them and find the songs. Listen to them on repeat, them never getting old. Gerard had read most of the novels they had in their home, even stolen the love novels from his mother’s closet and returned them slyly. Frank enjoyed hearing them. Was grateful he was sharing the stories with him. But he wanted to be able to be  _ with  _ him. Let him know he had heard the songs and loved the books. 

Michael was different though. He hardly talked. Frank always knew when it was Michael who had come in that night. He would walk slowly, the sound of the dirt crunching under his shoes was slow and operose. Heavy. He would sit down and sigh. Frank could hear the click of a flashlight and the scribbling of pencil or turning of pages. Michael would read or do homework. Sometimes he would cry, it was painful when he would weep. But it wasn’t often. Frank had heard him say  _ ‘Can you hear me? I don’t think you can. But if you can, I won't bore you with conversation. Just wanna hang out.’  _

Frank enjoyed each of their companies. Frank had did his best to participate in what they boys were doing. If Ray was there, Frank would smoke a cigarette out of the pack Gerard had left. Or smoke weed that he had began buying specifically for that. He would listen to Gerard read. Would talk back when Gerard spoke. Would sing songs along with him. Tried to let him know he was there, but it never worked. With Michael, he would listen. Do math equations at the same time. He’d sometimes talk to Michael though he couldn’t break the silence.

-

 

Frank awoke with his head just below the portal entrance, the top of his head tickling. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, staring at the clock. 9:33am. Never up this early. He stood up and stretched his arms above his head, some knots in his back popping and coming undone. He yawned and turned to see what else he could do to the machine. 

But it was black in the middle. Flickering and unreliable, but it was  _ on. _ He screamed and jumped up and down. His whole body felt flooded with relief. He looked in the cave and could make out a few things with the light coming through. The familiar curves in the walls. The smell of the forest. Something white stuck out in the dark and itched at his eye. It looked like an envelope stuck underneath a rock. 

His fingers touched the barrier and pushed through. And it felt like they had been inside a car door as it was slammed shut. He pulled his hand back with a quick yelp and inspected the damage. His three tallest fingers were badly bruised on top. Red, throbbing, and screaming at him. He put them in hit mouth and pressed a few button on his watch to stop the swelling and pain. But he was determined to get that envelope. 

He thrust his arm through as hard and fast as he could. His eyes shut and he blindly grabbed the corner of the envelope. The sound of the cracking and crushing scared him more than the sharp pain he felt in his arm. He pulled it through against the resistance and brought the letter with him. He dropped the letter on the floor and held his arm, running up the basement stairs. 

“Frank?” His father asked, looking over the back of the couch. 

“H-hey dad.” Frank held tightly to his arm. The stabbing had turned to tingling. “What're you doing home?”

“It's Saturday, kiddo. No work for me.” He studied him. 

“And mom?” 

“Gone out.” He stood from the couch. “Went shopping. What's wrong with your arm?” 

“Crushed it.” Frank answered, heading to the bathroom. 

“Let me see.” He said, reaching for his arm. “Hold still, Frank. More you move, worse it hurts.” He slipped his jacket sleeve carefully from his arm. When he saw the damage he hissed and winced. 

“Is it broken?” Frank asked, not daring to look. 

“Uh,” he sighed and scratched at his head. “I'd say so. And then some.” He went into the bathroom, pulling Frank with him. 

“How bad is it?” He watched him pull peroxide and gauze from the cabinet. 

“I'll clean the blood.” He said and began wetting a cloth with the peroxide. “Give you ice for the swelling. But get it set before it starts to heal. If you leave this alone, you'll have a crooked arm forever.” 

“Shit…” he sighed. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Sure.” He dabbed the peroxide on. Didn't say a word when Frank held tightly onto his fingers as his wounds began to bubble. “Starting to bruise. Smashed your skin up pretty good.” 

“I know. Hurts pretty bad.” He looked down finally to his arm. In more than one place the skin was split. Blood leaking from the open flesh. It was splotched red and beginning to swell purple. Through the skin it was obvious how broken his bones actually were. 

“I heard. About what happened to you, to your friends and Gerard. Mom told me.” His father said, keeping his eyes down on the wounds. 

“Hurts.” Frank nearly choked on the lump growing in his throat. 

“Worse than this?” His father began wrapping the gauze over the split skin. 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Sorry, kiddo.” 

“It's not your fault, dad.” 

“It's not yours either. It's not anyone's fault. This just happened. No one could've stopped it, Frank.” He patted his face. “You working on fixing that? That's what happened to your arm?”

“I miss him, Dad.” Frank spit out with a sob. He took a deep, helpless breath in and tried hard to hold it in. But couldn't. And he started to cry until he couldn't breathe, sat on the bathtub ledge, his dad taping gauze to his smashed arm. 

His dad said nothing. Just pulled his head into the space between his head and his neck. And Frank was fine with that. More than fine with it. It was comforting now that he had gotten over his insecurity of feeling like a child for the yearning of his parents’ attention. 

His father held his head there and let his tears soak onto him. Into the fabric of his button down. Wetting the hair on the back of his neck. Making the skin on his neck uncomfortably wet. And he rubbed his head and back until Frank stopped shaking. Once he did he let him go and finished tightly wrapping his arm. Pressed a few buttons on Frank’s watch to give him painkillers. And something to put him to sleep. 

Frank was dazed, the mix of the pain medication and sleep serum had already fell through his skin. He walked down the stairs to the basement. Needed to find what was inside the envelope before he would dare close his eyes. He held onto the railing and lunged for the white rectangle when he saw it. He sat on the cold floor and held the envelope to his chest, feeling wide awake now. 

The front flat part was addressed to Frank. Gerard's signature in the bottom right. He drug his finger through the opening, separating the glue from the paper easily. There was a single folded paper inside and he pulled it out carefully. Opened it and saw the familiar handwriting. His eyes couldn't read, couldn't believe what they were seeing. 

_ February 10 1957 _

_ Dearest Frank, _

_ I'm afraid to admit I am scared. Not just scared, so terrified that I can't feel the external cold anymore. I am scared I'll never see you again. I am scared we will never have our future we want. The future we deserve. I come to the cave most nights. I read to you. Talk to you. Can you hear me? I hope you can. I can't hear you- if you're wondering.  _

_ Mikey and Ray are sad too. Ray prefers to try to hide it. Never talks about it. Never shows it. But I know he comes here sometimes. I know he cries for you. But don't tell him I told you that. Mikes cries too and he's more open about it. I think he comes here alone but I'm never sure where he's at when he's not with me. Everyone misses you.  _

_ I know we'll figure it out. I know we’ll be together again. And I swear on my life I will wait for you. There is no one else like you. There is no one else for me. You are the one, Frank. So I know fate will bring us together. Even if it takes a hundred years, i am willing to wait.  _

_ I'll see you soon. But if I don't, and you have this letter remember me. I'll never forget you. I'll love you until the end of my days. I only hope for the same.  _

_ Yours for eternity and after, _

_ Gerard.  _

_ P.s. Next time I see you I'm slapping you for kicking me out so early our last day. Love you.  _

Frank held the note close to his chest. Read it over and over again. Kissed his signature. He folded the delicate paper and put it back in the envelope. Set it on his desk and pulled a piece of paper of his own.  He took a pen and began writing his own letter. 

_ Gerard, _

_ I couldn't ever forget you. Tell the boys I miss them. Tell them I'm coming soon. I miss you more than I could ever say. It hurts so much.  _

_ I can hear you. I can hear all of you. Your stories are so sweet. I love hearing your voice.  _

_ Happy Valentine's Day. _

_ If you see the portal open and I'm not around, do not touch it. It will break your bones. The weight is too strong and it'll turn your arm to pulp and powder.  _

_ But I will fix it soon. I'll see you again and we'll have our future. I love you more than life itself. And I will wait for you. As long as it takes.  _

_ Your valentine,  _

_ Frank. _

He folded the letter and put it inside a steel casing. Stuck the box onto a metal pole and shoved it through without thinking. The steel flew through and he hoped to God it didn't bend so much it ruined the letter. The metal pole began to vibrate and he knew it was going to burn his hands. But he didn't dare let go. Not until the steel box was detached. 

He pressed the button on the metal pole and heard the clink of the box hitting the ground. He laughed and flung his body backwards, pulling the pole back through with all his might. He fell onto the floor breathing heavily. 

Once he caught his breath, he sat up and examined the damage. The pole was black about half a meter up. And dented. Badly. Crushed like a soda can. He looked at his hands, the pain suddenly reaching him. They were red and burning. He laid down on his back, palms up and waited to fall asleep. The last thing he saw was the portal going out again. And he began to cry. 

-

Gerard hugged as he reached the cave. Felt along the cold rock. Still nothing. He sat down and opened the book. Turned on the flashlight. He began to read the last chapter of one of Michaels books, but a flash caught his eyes. 

He quickly turned the light toward it. A small metal box was sat still. A soft dent in the top, dust clinging to it. He took it in his hands, staring, waiting for an answer. But then he noticed the envelope was gone. 

He stood up quickly and searched the entire cave floor with the flashlight. Left the cave when he found nothing and searched around the entire thing. No envelope. He raced back to the box and squatted down. Flipped the lock open and pulled the lid up. There was a paper inside. The kind of funny looking paper Frank had in his room. The paper that always looked like it was gleaming. 

He took it softly into his hands and opened it quickly. It was short. But as he read the first line he began to cry. Read it to himself over and over until the words didn't make him cry anymore. 

“Thank you, Frank.” He said, looking at the wall. “I wasn't serious about slapping you, by the way.” He slid his back down the opposing wall and closed his eyes. “See you soon.”


	13. Thirteen

 

Frank had worked for a full week and a day on getting the machine to work again. Getting it to be stable enough to throw one of them through. He didnt care about living in his own time anymore. Figured if it opened up, and he could go through, he would. And he would let it close behind him. Hed have all the wanted once he was with Gerard again. 

He pushed a few wires into place and pressed the code in. His eyes locked onto the wall behind the portal. He was so tired, it felt like he wasnt really seeing it. He shook his head and closed his eyes tightly as to shake off the fatigue. He stuck the compass in the portal and watched the needle hit north, sit there unstable for two seconds, then fall back to west. And then he saw the black manifest. Saw the light coming from Gerard’s flashlight as he was entering the portal. 

“Gerard!” Frank screamed. “Is that you?!” He sounded pathetic and he knew it, but he didnt care. He went to throw his body through, but it crushed his finger. He heard his bone crunch. The black glitched, and his heart fell. 

“Oh, Frank!” He cried launching himself forward. “Is it true?”

“Don't come through!” He held his hands out. “It's really sensitive, you don't wanna throw it off.”

“I missed you.” Gerard whispered, wiping at his eyes. He fell to his knees in front of the portal and held his hand out, nearly touching the invisible barrier. 

“God, I missed you so much.” Frank leaned forward, looking at Gerard, just an arm's reach away. “Can you see me?”

“With the flashlight on you, yes.” He said. “Can’t you see me?”

“No…” Gerard said, the word coming out only as air. “I can hear you, though.” He let out a sob and debated whether or not to just push through. “I can’t go through?”

“ _ Don’t _ !” Frank said quickly. “It’ll crush whatever body part you stick through.”

“It’s so nice to hear your voice.” He held his finger half a centimeter away, still considering going through. He didn’t know what he’d do about a crushed head, was the only hesitation. “I feel… relieved. A bit, you know? Hearing your voice again finally, just…” He sighed. “Can we meet again? Ever? I mean passing through.” He asked with a shaky voice. 

“I'm working on it, trying really fucking hard to get this up again. God,” he sighed. “I could pass right now and that would be that. No turning back, I’d be in the past from there on out.”

“You'd be with me.” Gerard smiled. “But don't! The future is so much better. Heavens, if I could pass without being pulverized, I'd do it in a heartbeat.” He snapped his fingers. 

“This isn't our end, babe.” Frank shook his head. “We'll meet again.”

“I could just cross and die with you.” Gerard half joked. 

“No,” Frank chuckled. “Just wait a bit longer, Gerard.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Gerard could feel his chest tightening and loosening as he was filled with anxiety about Frank leaving, but also with the relief of hearing his breathing. He knew he was alive, knew he was trying to get back. And for now, that was enough for him. Frank adjusted his body and bumped into the neon reactor. Immediately his neck swiveled around and he stared at the portal, waiting for it to close. 

But instead, Gerard squinted. Looked closely until his face lit up. His was frozen with his mouth in an ' _O_ ' shape. His eyes wide. And he started to cry. 

“What is it?” Frank asked. 

“I can see you, Frank.” He whispered, getting his face closer to the portal. Frank leaned in too. “I see you, darling.”

“I see you too.” 

“You’re so perfect. I cant believe you’re mine.” Gerard stared at him. “There is no life for me without you.” He whispered. Gerard smiled and dropped his eyelids. 

“I have nothing if I don’t have you.” Frank said, staring at his closed eyes. “I can’t wait to get old with you. Be the piece of shit old man I’m meant to be.”

“Can you build a machine to take us back to the beginning and we can make it different every time?” Gerard asked, eyes still closed.

“What do you mean, different every time.”

“As if we could do everything there is to do while still young. Live in Europe, Africa, the rainforest, be famous, live in the country. The whole deal.” A single tear escaped from Gerard's eye.

“Of course, Gerard.” Frank almost reached a hand out to wipe it, but caught himself. “We'll live happily forever after.” 

“Promise?” 

“Once I get this damn machine to work again I swear.” The image of Gerard flickered and so did Frank's heart. “Oh, fuck. God, no, no, no.” He cried out, jumping to his feet to enter more codes. 

“Frank? What's happening?” Gerard began to grow scared. 

“It's messing up. It's gonna cut off soon.” He looked down into Gerard's eyes, inches, but also centuries away.

“What next?” Another stream escaped his eye. 

“I have to fix it. Fuck, Gerard. It’s okay, it’ll be faster this time.”

“What do you mean? Y-you're not going to see me for a while? Are we ever going to see eachother again?” Gerard was full panicked now, unable to catch his breath. “Frank I-I can't live here on my own now that I know what exists beyond. Don't leave me!” His chest rose and fell rapidly, but no air reached him. 

Frank did what felt right at the moment.  He reached through, pushing his arm into Gerard's time period. He gripped Gerard's face. 

“Listen. We will see eachother again. It'll all work out.” Frank stared into his glazed eyes. “Okay?” He strained. His arm had been crushed once again. He held back a scream, Gerard was too scared to notice what had happened. He gently touched Frank’s fingers.

“You swore…” Gerard whispered. 

“I did. And I won't let you down.” 

“Does that hurt?” Gerard held onto his ring finger.

“It feels like I'm being smashed. It hurts a lot, actually.” Frank rubbed his thumb back and forth before pulling his arm back through once the pain became too much to bear. The machine had began to shut down again. 

“I love you.” Gerard said as the edges became darker. 

“I love you. Until next time.” He blew a kiss to him. 

“Until then, my love.” Gerard stared into the dark barrier until the solidness dissolved into nothing. And he stood alone, no trace of Frank ever existing besides the ghost touch on his face and the pain in his heart. 

-

“Gerard.” Michael gasped as he passed him as he left. Gerard was only coming in. “You scared me.”

“Boo.” Gerard forced a smirk. 

“Where were you?” Michael touched his face, his cheeks were warm despite the snowfall outside. “You okay?”

“Yes, I’m alright. I do have something to tell you.” Gerard wanted to tell someone about seeing Frank now that two days had passed, but couldn’t come up with the words. 

“I’m headed to Ray’s.” He said, patting Gerard’s shoulder. “You’re welcome to come. Unless you want to get to sleep now. School tomorrow.”

“I’ll come with you. Tomorrow is Friday anyways, I might even skip.”

“Again?” They left through the front door together, Michael held the hinge. 

“Yes, it’s been a… strange few days for me, Mikes.”

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked as they started down the sidewalk. 

“Sure I do. It’s what I was meant to talk to you about.” Gerard said as he watched Michael pull a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket.

“Yeah? I’m all ears.”  He struck a match and lit a cigarette that was in his mouth. Handed one to Gerard and held the flaming match to the end. 

“I saw Frank.” He puffed his cigarette once and held his throat closed, keeping the smoke trapped inside of his body. He closed his eyes and let the cold seep into his coat. 

“You saw him?! H-He’s back?” Michael asked, standing in front of Gerard, blocking him from going anywhere. “Gerard, answer me! Is he here? I want to see him!” He shook him by the shoulders softly. 

“Mikey…” He opened his eyes and there were tears collecting on his waterline. The dam that was his eyelashes couldn't hold all the water and it fell down his cheek. His lip began to quiver. 

“He’s not, is he?” Michael deflated. He let go of Gerard’s shoulders and rubbed roughly at his face. “Is he okay? How’d he look?”

“Like he did before.” He chuckled, holding onto the cigarette with trembling hands. “It opened on his side and he saw me first. I came inside and he called to me. It was black on our side like always.”

“And he came through it?”

“No.” He shook his head. “He said he could hear us. When we spoke to him in the cave, you know? He can hear us, Mikes. The entire time. We just couldn't hear him.”

“Everything?”

“Sure, when he would listen. He said he’d put his head in the machine in the evenings and wait for someone to come inside and be with him.” 

“So he heard me cryin’, huh?” Michael snorted. “That’s gonna be embarrassing once he gets back. If he gets back.” He mumbled. 

“No, don’t talk like that.” Gerard looked at him. “Don’t be so pessimistic, he’s going to be back. You’ll see. He’s coming. Soon.”

“He told you that?”

“Well, if it worked enough to where i could see him, who’s to say he can’t fix it so we can go through again.”

“You saw him? But you couldn’t pass through?”

“Yes, I don’t know why, but the black went clear and I could see him through the barrier, Mikes. I couldn’t touch it or pass. Frank had tried to and it broke his bones really badly.”

“Is it still like that? Gerard, I want to see Frank.” 

“No, it closed after we spoke.” Gerard wiped at his nose and took a deep puff from his cigarette, trying to not cry again. 

“You think it’ll be like that again soon?”

“I don’t know, Mikes.”

“I miss him.”

“Me too.”

They walked together silently for a while and Michael sighed, pulling his cigarette pack out again. He took out the cigarette Ray had fixed up for him. He took the tobacco out and packed it with marijuana instead. He made Michael two of them. And he hadn’t smoked them yet, couldn’t find a moment that felt right. But now felt like the time. And he hung one from his own lips and handed one to Gerard. Who inspected it, sniffed it, then stuck it in his mouth gratefully once he knew what it was. 

Gerard lit them with his lighter and smoked his slowly. He liked to hold the smoke in his lungs as long as he could. Ray had told him it would give him a better high. It made sense to him, and he felt like it was true, so he did it. They walked slowly in silence. Michael looked up at the sky and stuck his tongue out, trying to catch a snowflake. 

“What should we do when he gets back?” Michael asked. 

“I think I just want to spend the day close to him. I just don’t want to lose him again.”

“I wanna go swimming with him again. And you and Ray. I miss that day even though it was really cold. You think we can do that in the summer? Frank made it a lot of fun.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he’d love to.”

“Will he be back by the summer?”

Gerard felt a cold thumbtack tuck itself into his heart. 

“Sure he will. I don’t think I could stand four more months alone.”

“You have me.”

“You know what I mean. I need my fiance.” 

“ _ Fiance _ ?” Michael blinked a few times. “What?”

“I wasn’t gonna tell anyone until he got back.” Gerard chuckled. “Shit, Mikes. You can’t tell anyone we’re gonna get married.”

“You can’t get married.”

“Not here, no.” He smiled at the sky. “In Frank’s time, yes. We’re even gonna have kids, Mikes.” He laughed and craned his neck to look into his eyes. “Can you believe it?”

“Kids?” He smiled. 

“Yes! Frank and I!” He laughed again, thinking about it. “Don’t tell anybody, Mikes, please.”

“I won’t.” He smiled wide. “An uncle… I’m gonna be an uncle.” He giggled. 

“I guess so.” He tapped the ash off the end of his cigarette. 

“He needs to get back sooner.” Michael shook his head. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t want to jinx it.” Gerard shrugged. “Figured if we kept it more quiet now, it’d be better later.”

“You guys have rings yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“Can I be your best man?” Michael asked. 

“Of course you’re going to.” Gerard laughed as Michael knocked on Ray’s door. 

“Hey, guys.” Ray said once he opened the door. He stood in his boxers and a button up shirt. The television was on and there was a faint smell of pot coming off his breath. The boys went inside and stepped around empty alcohol contaiers. 

“Aren’t your parents ever home?” Gerard said as he went for the fridge.

“Nope.” He sighed, sitting on the couch. His hair had been gelled two days ago, but he hadn’t dealt with it since. Now it was almost loose. His curls were showing through. And he didn’t care, he actually liked it quite a lot. 

“Frank’s not back but Gerard saw him.” Michael immediately told Ray. “The portal opened and they saw each other, but it closed again.”

“Gerard, is that true?” Ray said, swinging his head around. 

“Yup, two days ago. Really hurts actually.” He pulled milk from the fridge. “Is this still good, or what?”

“How is he?” Ray jumped over the back of the couch and stood in front of Gerard. “Does he look alright? Gerard, is he coming back soon?”

“Should be.” He rubbed at his chest. “Do you have any more liquor? I want to drink.”

“Sure, I do. In that cabinet.” Ray pointed to his father’s liquor cabinet that was now nearly bare. “Gerard, please just tell me how soon he’s coming back. I need to know.” He felt the ten tons of worry melt off his shoulders once he realized Frank was still, indeed, alive. 

“Soon probably, Ray.” He took a swig of blended whiskey. Once he tasted it he looked at the label. “Yuck,  _ this  _ is blended? My dad refuses to buy blended drinks, you know after the prohibition and all. I suppose he was right about it.”

“What do you mean  _ soon _ , Gerard?!” He took the bottle from his hand. “Look at me. Look me in the eyes, kid.”

“Fine, fine. Ray, I’m looking. What is it?” He felt the back of his eyes prick, but he blamed it on the drink. Maybe his dad was scared of blended drinks for a good reason. 

“Is he coming back?” There was a line of tears sitting on Ray’s waterline. He didn’t seem to notice, didn’t wipe it away. Gerard stared back as he began to cry himself. A tear fell from Ray’s eye but he didn’t budge. Wouldnt look away. 

“Yes.” Gerard whispered. “He’s coming back. And he’s going to come back soon. He hasn’t forgotten about us, Raymond. Frank is coming back and he’s working at it as hard as he can, alright?”

“Alright.” Ray looked down and started to rub at his eyes again. 

“Can I drink again now, warden?” Gerard asked, sarcastically.

“Shut up.” Ray laughed and shoved him softly. “Here,” He handed him the whiskey back. “Knock yourself out.”

“Frank and Gerard are getting married. Did ya know that, Ray?” Michael said flatly as he stared at the television and crunched barbecue potato chips. 

“You are?” Ray asked Gerard. He smiled wide. “Wow! You guys can do that?”

“Sure can! In Frank’s time anyway…” He took another drink. “But we’re gonna do it.”

“And have kids.” Michael laughed. “Say, Ray? These blue bell chips are awfully tasty. Mom won’t let us have these in our house. Says we’ll be lazy.” He ate another one after examining it. “Guess shes right. Considering how lazy you are.”

“Aw, shut up, nosebleed!” He waved his hand at him. Gerard handed him the whisky bottle, offering him a drink. And he took it. Letting the smooth warmth seep into his stomach. 

“You are kind of lazy. Looking at the state of this place.” Gerard shrugged. 

“I guess she does have a point.” Ray sighed as he now looked at how messy his place had become. “I’ll clean up later, you guys wanna watch television with me?”

“Sure, we do, Ray.” Michael yawned. “Got anymore chips?” 

“I think so.” Ray answered. “Are you going to school tomorrow, Gerard?” 

“Probably not.” Gerard sighed looking around the kitchen at the mess. 

The sink was filled with dishes. The dinner table was littered with crumbs and newspaper. The floor was full of dirt and dirty puddle stains from the melted snow. The living room was just as foul. Michael was only adding to the mess as he ate the chips. Crumbs were collecting on his shirt. And as soon as he moved he knew they were going to fall onto the couch and floor. There were clothes all over the place. A shirt here and there. Even a pair of trousers were hung over the back of Ray’s father’s chair. 

He didn't even want to think of the smell of the place. It reeked, to say the least. The food that he hadn’t properly disposed of was enough to ruin the pleasant scent his mother had worked so hard to establish in their home. But Ray had also spilled liquor around the place. Left bottles open. Their sweet and bitter aromas had mixed with the stale air. And of course, there was the hint, but very obvious stench of marijuana lying on everything. 

“Me neither.” Ray sighed, looking for anything nutritious or refreshing to eat. He had absolutely no produce, just junk. He sighed and stood up, pressing his back to the refrigerator. 

“I’ll stay here with you tomorrow, alright? We can clean up the place. Buy some actual food for the house.” He took another drink of the whiskey. 

“You’d do that? Thanks a lot, Gerard. I really appreciate that.” He felt a blanket of peace fall onto the three of them. Fell over the entire house. “My parents will be back in a week and two days.”

“Enough time to get the weed smell out of here, yeah?”

“Gotta open up the windows, I guess.” Ray laughed. “Keep your jacket close.”

“Mikes?” He raised his voice. 

“Mm?” He hummed with a mouth full of chips. 

“Are you going to school tomorrow?”

“Why?”

“I’m staying here tomorrow. To help Ray clean his filthy house. Neither of us are going. You wanna stay and help clean?”

“Well, sure I’ll help.” He yawned. “If Ray buys me more of these chips.”

“Done deal, nosebleed.” He sighed and sat on the couch next to Michael. 

Gerard sat next to Ray. and they all glued their eyes to the television. Michael finished the bag of chips and lit a cigarette. Let it hang from his lips and lazily smoked it. Ray lit a weed cigarette and offered the boys a puff. They both rejected. Michael, full from the chips and Gerard too busy with the whiskey. Which he drank until the bottle ran out. He couldn't remember how much he had begun with in the bottle. But he knew it felt like a lot. He closed his eyes and waited for morning light to wake him. Thinking of how he was going to clean the carpet, trying to remember what his mother used to get scotch out of their own. 

-

 

Gerard woke up to the sound of running water. It sounded like the sink a few feet away. There was also a record playing as loud as possible somewhere in the house. Gerard couldn’t recognize the song. He stretched his limbs, accidentally kicking his brother in the head. Who swatted at his foot and continued scrubbing a red stain from the carpet. Gerard felt a settled calm in his chest that he hadn’t felt since before Frank was gone. And though he was still anxious, he felt better today. A lot better. He could now smell the cleaning products and rubbed at his eyes. Michael was wearing the rubber gloves their mother would wear while she did the dishes. 

“You look like Mom.” Gerard joked.

“That’s what I thought when he gave me these stupid things.” He smirked. “You slept like a rock, man.”

“What time is it?”

“Nearly eight.” Michael sat back on his legs. “Wanna help clean or are you gonna shower first? Ray and I both showered before we started to clean.”

“Think the mess will still be here once I finish getting cleaned up?”

“Look around, big brother.” Michael gestured to the room. “This mess isn’t gonna be dented until the day’s over.”

“Oh, it won’t take  _ that _ long.” Gerard waved his hand at him. 

Gerard said a good morning to Ray before going up the stairs. There were clothes littering the steps. He imagined what kind of rush Ray would need to be in to undress while taking the stairs. He found his way to the bathroom and turned the water on. Kicked the dirty towels out into the hallway before closing the door. 

He undressed and folded his clothes, setting them on the sink. He figured it would be okay to wear them again today. Gerard looked at himself in the rectangular mirror. Pale and bare naked, staring back at himself. Green eyes surrounded by white tinted red. The veins on the top of his feet that pushed through. The hair that grew on his legs and in his armpits matched the color of the brown hair on his head. He smiled at himself, feeling fine. 

He squirted toothpaste on his finger and brushed his teeth like that while staring at himself, examining the faces he made while he cleaned his teeth. He rinsed his mouth and filled it again with crisp mouthwash. He swished it around his mouth, cheek to cheek, passing it through his teeth. He thought he looked like a squirrel with the liquid in each cheek. He spit in the sink and looked at his teeth. Not quite white and smaller than he’d like. But he felt fine with it. 

The warm jets of the shower fell on him unevenly. Ray had mentioned his father was to fix it before he left. But it seemed evident that he had neglected that responsibility. But, he was still thankful it worked. As he lathered himself of Ray’s fragrant soap he felt new. Like everything was going to go his way. In contrast to how he’d felt twenty four hours ago, it was a new life. He washed his hair and conditioned it, taking his time to massage it into his scalp until his hair felt clean and he was satisfied. He held his face under the water until that too felt completely rinsed off. 

He stepped out and dried himself with a towel that was hung on the rack. It was a bit damp, which wasn’t ideal, but he didn’t mind. Didn't care if he was sharing a towel with his friend or brother. He dressed in his underwear and pants. Then he dried his hair. Combed it and gelled it in Ray’s bathroom mirror. He rubbed a dab of lotion on his face and put his shirt on. Looked at himself in the mirror as he buttoned it up. Then he went downstairs, keeping an eye out for his shoes. He couldn't remember where he had put them last night. 

“Gerard, good you’re here.” Ray said once he saw him. “Would you mind finishing drying those dishes? Michael wants to mix the chemicals and I gotta stop him.”

“Sure, that’s alright.” Gerard nodded, heading over to the sink. 

There was a collection of cups, plates, bowls, and silverware on the counter. A puddle of water collecting underneath them. He used a dry dishtowel to clean the water off them as he stacked them in the cabinet and the silverware in the drawer. Once he was done, he wiped the water from the counter. He made new dishwater and swept the kitchen floor while the sink filled a second time. He opened the door in the kitchen that led to the backyard and swept the dust out. Left it open to get the stale air out. And get the cold, fresh air in. 

Gerard took the dishtowel he dried the dishes with and dipped it into the new hot, soapy water. He wrung it out and began wiping the counters clean. It was a difficult process. There were a lot of sticky places to rub at. And a lot of crumbs to collect. He made many trips back to the sink to clean the towel before going back in. Even though Ray hadn’t used it much, he cleaned the stove anyway. Then he cleaned the dinner table. Threw away the newspapers he had evidently used to their potential. Some were stained with brown puddles of coffee, some were littered with crumbs, and some just had strange stains. He put them in the trash and wiped off the table. 

The refrigerator was nearly bare, but it still had to be cleaned out. He took all the contents out, putting the food that had gone bad into the trash, the food that was still good sat on the counter for now. He used the dishtowel again and cleaned the shelves. He restocked the fridge in a way that made sense and closed the door. Wiped the outside and the handle. Cleaned the empty breadbox. Cleaned the liquor cabinet and closed its door. Took the trash bag outside and into the metal can. And let the dirty dishwater spill down the drain now that it was too filthy to use and also because the kitchen was cleaned. 

He walked into the living room. Michael was cleaning the front windows. Ray had removed the couch cushions and was sweeping any crumbs off and onto the floor. He put them back on and began to vacuum the floor. Gerard took to picking the clothes up from the stairs and putting them into a basket. He found that he was in the bathroom again, cleaning the bathtub, the sink, the floor, organizing the medicine cabinet. And once he was done, he swept the hallway, collected the dust, flushed it down the toilet, and went back to the living room. 

The carpeted floor was clean again. Only faint traces of the red stain in front of the couch. The liquor smell was gone, the marijuana smell was dull, almost not there. Ray was putting the vacuum cleaner away while Michael was polishing the wooden coffee table. Michael finished as Gerard reached the bottom of the stairs and put the rag in the laundry basket Gerard had. He put the bottle of polish back under the sink and sighed. 

The three found themselves huddled in the kitchen, wanting to eat something. 

“There’s nothing but a few eggs.” Gerard said. “You’ve got cold cereal, but no milk.”

“I figured I’d have nothing to eat.” Ray sighed. “It’s about noon, you guys wanna go out to get lunch? Then I figure I could get some groceries after.”

“Let’s get going then, I’m starving.” Michael said, closing the door in the kitchen. “You did good in here, Gerard.”

“We all did good, the house looks like Ray’s mom is home.”

They collected their coats and made sure all the doors were closed, leaving a few windows open. They knew they house would be absolutely freezing when they got back, but at least it would smell more fresh inside. 

 

-

Frank woke up in a panic. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, just needed to lay down for a minute or two. It was just wasted time. He checked his watch. 1:58pm. He had slept for nine solid hours. He checked his arm. Wrapped tight and pumped full of medication for three whole days, it felt brand new. He unwrapped it and stretched his fingers out. Good as new. 

Quickly, he picked his toolbag off his bed and rushed back, beginning to twist a bolt tighter into place. He stopped, feeling cold wash over him. Black was swirling in the middle again. Looking stronger and more stable than it had before. He stuck his finger through, feeling the cold, winter air on the other side. He repressed the need to scream in joy. Instead, he settled for jumping up and down a couple times, smiling as hard as he could. He ripped his hoodie from his chair and pulled it over his head. 

“Eros,” He said, quietly. “Aura, please.” And his body lit with blue light around it, able to guide him through the cave that he had not seen. 

He stepped through, taking a deep breath of the sweet forest air. It felt like home to him. He turned his aura off, the bright afternoon light burned as it met his eyes. But he welcomed it, feeling like new. He walked a bit until he reached the cold lake. He walked to the edge of the dock and sat down on the hardwood. Dangling his feet so only the bottom of his shoes were touching the lake. He was in Gerard’s time. Frank looked around, looking for Ray. He had mentioned he came to the lake a lot. But there was no sign of anyone around. He assumed he wouldn’t be here in the middle of the day anyway. Today was Friday and there was school until 2:30pm. 

He laid on his side and dipped his fingers into the icy water. It felt invigorating and he was tempted to put his whole body in the water. But he decided against it. Hypothermia was easy to come to and he didn’t want anything to keep him from seeing Gerard again. Instead, he settled for taking his shoes off, rolling his pant legs up, and letting the water wrap around his calves. 

After a while of counting clouds and feeling the freezing water on his legs it really began to sink in. he was finally where he needed to be. The relaxing in his stomach, the unclenching of his jaw, the loosening of the knot in his throat felt at perfect timing. He slid his feet from the water, let them dry, slipped his socks and shoes back on. He uncuffed his jeans and stood up. Began to walk down the path. He checked his watch, 2:32pm. Snow had began to fall softly and land on the shoulders of his coat. He brushed it off periodically and shook his hair out. 

He met the road and saw the cars passing at the busy hour. All the students were going home. He would almost fit in. The only things that stood out about him were his hair and his clothes. But he figured no one would notice. It was Friday, nobody cared what Frank was doing. So he continued to walk, resisted the urge to begin running to Gerard’s house. 

He reached the road leading to Gerard’s street after what felt like an eternity and a half. His heart flung off a diving board in his chest straight to his stomach. Then back up into his throat. He started to run, there was hardly anyone around. And he ran as hard as his legs could go. The condensation from his mouth came out in sharp, rapid puffs. Ran through until he reached his neighborhood. Ran until he could see the familiar tall tree in his front yard. And his window. He looked up at it. Checked his watch. 2:53pm. Gerard should be home by now. 

He ran to the front door and knocked three times quickly. He bounced on his heels, eagerly awaiting someone to answer the door. He hoped to god it would be Gerard. How perfect it would be to surprise him. And the door opened and Frank was only a bit disappointed. 

“Frank?” Gerard’s mother asked. “You’re back?”

“Yes, hello. How are you? Is Gerard in?” He asked quickly, his eyes searched the house behind her. 

“No, darling he’s not here.” She shook her head. “Michael said he was going to Ray’s house last night, I can only assume Gerard went along. They havent come home yet.”

“Thank you.” Frank said, turning to run. 

“Wait!” She said before he left. He turned and looked at her. She saw into his eyes and stared at him for a moment. 

Geuine love flowed from his irises. And she knew in that moment that he meant no harm to Gerard. That he never did in the first place. She felt sorry for the two, sorry that she couldn’t let her husband, his father, know why Gerard was sulking around the house for months. But now, seeing Frank back, and knowing how much it would mean to her sons, she felt eased. Not so nervous about the situation anymore. She laid a delicate hand on his cheek and leaned forward. Pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

“Please take care of my boy, he’s always been so well behaved.”

“Of course. I only want what’s best for him.” Frank nodded.

“I know you do, darling. Now go.” She patted his face softly.

“I’ll see you soon.” He smiled before he turned around and began to run again. 

He pushed his legs until he reached 25mph. Even though he knew it would look very strange to the locals, he didn’t care anymore. He wanted to get to Gerard fast. Ray’s front door came into view. And he stopped in front of the house, looking at it where it sat. Silent under the snow. The bushes under the window had a white blanket over them and he patted it as he passed them to get to the door. He knocked twice and waited. 

“Who could that be?” Michael asked, hard candy in his mouth. 

“I’m not expecting anyone.” Ray shrugged. 

“I’ll get it, then.” Gerard huffed, no one moving from their seats. 

He sighed and reached the door. Lazily swung it open without looking out the window to see who it was. If it  _ was  _ Ray’s parents early it wouldnt be any trouble. The house was clean and the last hour of school had passed. But he made eye contact with the person on the other side and began to quake. Frozen where he stood. Frank stood frozen too, the cold keeping every muscle in place. 

“Who is it?” Michael called out, not taking his eyes from the television. Ray didn’t care enough to even bother to ask. 

Gerard took a step forward and laid his hand on Frank’s cheek. His palm cradled the rounded part of his face, his fingers reaching his hairline. And he felt him sigh, the warm air touching his wrist. It brought him back to life and he launched himself forward, wrapping his arms around Frank’s neck. Frank hugged him back and couldn’t help but begin to sob. Both their legs became weak and they fell to the cement, still holding onto each other. 

Gerard pressed woodpecker kisses all over Frank’s face as he laughed. He slipped his finger through the buttons in his shirt and felt Gerard’s skin. His warm chest. And he felt his own chest become warm like he had a furnace inside of him. He lifted his head and pressed his lips to Gerard’s. The sugar of the hard candy he had finished moments before Frank came still loitering in his mouth. Frank took all that flavoring and worked it into his mouth, holding hard onto Gerard. 

Ray and Michael exchanged glances. That laugh sounded familiar. They both knew it and they both looked worried. Michael started to laugh. Hard. And Ray started to laugh hard too. He jumped over the back of the couch. Michael swung his body around the armrest and the raced the short distance to the door. And they both saw him. They looked at each other again before starting to scream. 

“Frank!” Ray yelled and held a hand out. Frank took it, unable to speak since he was connected at the lips to Gerard. 

“You’re back! For good?” Michael asked. Frank nodded.

Gerard stood up and pulled Frank with him. Ray immediately hugged him, pulling his smaller body into his. He held him tightly and Frank didn’t mind at all, he held onto Ray until Michael pulled him away and hugged him himself. Gerard reached out and held his hand even though he couldn't have him all to himself. 

The four were almost too stunned to make conversation. Especially Frank and Gerard. They looked at eachother, studying their faces and looking for any slight differences in time. Gerard noticed Frank had a small cut on his forehead. And it looked like he had been chewing on his lip. Frank noticed how pristine Gerard looked. His hair was combed to perfection. His lips were dark pink, which he assume was from him and whatever sweet thing he was eating beforehand. But they knew they were the same.

“Hi.” Frank breathed out finally.

“He speaks!” Ray yelled, lifting his fists up in celebration. 

“Frank?” Michael asked. “Are you and my brother getting married?” He couldn't shake the news from the forefront of his thoughts. Couldn't resist asking the other groom about it. 

“Yes,” Frank giggled, still unable to break eye contact with Gerard. Their hands were connected at the fingers. “And we’re going to have kids.”

“Lots of them.” Gerard confirmed. 

“Can I be your best man?” Ray asked. 

“Who else would do it?” Frank laughed, breaking their eye contact to look at Ray. “Your hair?” He noticed now it wasn’t combed. It hung loose and curly. “Looks good on you.”

“You think?” He touched it.

“Fuck yes. Suits you.”

“Wanna watch TV with us?” Michael asked, leading the group the the furniture. He sat on the couch, along with Frank and Gerard. And Ray lazed in his father’s chair. “Gunsmoke.”

“So good.” Frank said as he sat down, holding Gerard close to him. 

“I love you. Timelessly.” Gerard whispered to him under the television volume. 

“I love you.” Frank kissed his lips softly. 

They relaxed into the furniture. Michael hung his leg over the armrest. Chewing on a stick from a lollipop he had finished. Ray watched the show intently. He liked the ‘Bloody Hands’ episode the best of all of Gunsmoke. Frank had even been dragged into the plot, finding it too interesting to not get into. Gerard liked it a lot too. Though he didn't like to admit it, Gunsmoke was definitely one of his favorite television shows. 

They stayed inside all night, letting the snow fall around the house. Coming and going as they pleased to get snacks and drinks. Michael had sprawled out on the floor to stretch his legs and ended up falling asleep there. Ray fell asleep in his father’s chair after his third donut. And Frank and Gerard laid together on the couch, feeling at complete peace with how they were able to be again. In the morning, Frank wanted to find the records of the songs Gerard had sung to him that he couldn't find in his time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the end!! it's been amazing writing this story. all the support is so overwhelmingly amazing and sweet. and i'm so appreciative of every interaction anyone has with my writing. though this is my second story finished, it feels like a new experience. thank you so much to anyone and everyone who read or liked my story :-) more stories to come, surely. take care!!


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